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9 


IXSTX 




1 IN Song. 




of ^miuctTTUcl : 





mn^ 



SELECTED FROM ALL AGES, WITH NOTES, 



BY 



PHILIP SCHAFF, D.D. 




/ NEW YORK: 
ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY, 
No. 770, Broadway. 
1869. 










Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 

Anson D. F. Randolph & Co., 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 
District of New York. 



CAMBRIDGE : 

PKESS OF JOHN WILSON AND SON. 



■■ 




CHRISTO SACRUM. 



Xgiatog ra ndrta ev naaiv. 



Thro' life and death, thro' sorrow and thro' sinning 
Christ shall suffice me, for He hath sufficed; 

Christ is the end, for Christ is the beginning, 
Christ the beginning, for the end is Christ. 



Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our 
SINS IN His own Blood, and hath made us kings and 
PRIESTS unto God and His Father: to Him be glory 
and dominion for ever and ever! Amen. 








PREFACE. 



/'"^HRIST is the centre of sacred art as well as of the- 
^""^ ology and religion. The noblest works of the 
master-painters are attempts to portray His " human face 
divine," now in the charm of childhood, now in the 
agony of the cross, now in the glory of the resurrection, 
now in His majesty as the judge of the world. From 
Him music has drawn its highest inspiration, and Handel 
transcended himself when he made "Messiah" his 
theme. The sweetest lyrics of Zion in all ages celebrate 
the events of His life and the boundless wealth of mercy 
and peace that is treasured up in His person and work 
for every believer. 

The hymns of Jesus are the Holy of holies in the 
temple of sacred poetry. From this sanctuary every 
doubt is banished ; here the passions of sense, pride, and 



U 



VI PREFACE. 

unholy ambition give way to the tears of penitence, the 
joys of faith, the emotions of love, the aspirations of 
hope, the anticipations of heaven ; here the dissensions 
of rival churches and theological schools are hushed 
into silence ; here the hymnists of ancient, mediaeval, and 
modern times, from every section of Christendom — pro- 
found divines, stately bishops, humble monks, f^iithful 
pastors, devout laymen, holy w^omen — unite with one 
voice in the common adoration of a common Saviour. 
He is the theme of all ages, tongues, and creeds, the 
divine harmony of all human discords, the solution of 
all the dark problems of life. 

What an argument this for the great mystery of '' God 
manifest in flesh," and for the communion of saints ! 
Where is the human being, however great and good, 
that could open such a stream of grateful song, ever 
widening and deepening from generation to generation, 
in every land ! 

Blessed Saviour ! Thou indeed, and Thou alone, 
with the Father and the Holy Ghost ever one God, art 
worthy to receive blessing and glory, praise and adora- 
tion from the innumerable army of the redeemed in the 
Church militant on earth, and the Church triumphant in 
heaven, for ever and for ever ! 

A complete and carefully selected Lyra Christo- 
LOGICA, embracing the choicest hymns on the Person 
and Work of our Lord from all ages, denominations, 



e 



PREFACE. 



VU 



and tongues, must be welcome to every lover of sacred 
poetry. 

Such a work is here attempted from the best hym- 
nological sources. A large proportion of the poems are 
translations or transfusions from the Greek, Latin, and 
German ; with a few from other languages. The Eng- 
lish hymns are nearly all given, as they came from the 
inspiration of the poet, without omission or alteration. 
Any other course would be contrary to good taste, and a 
violation of the sacredness of literary property. The 
Lyra Sacra of America is well represented. Although 
only about thirty years old, it is far richer than our 
British friends are aware of. 

About thirty pieces are especially prepared for this 
Collection, and will attract attention. The Editor begs 
leave here, publicly, to express his cordial thanks to his 
friends, the Rev. Drs. W. A. Miihlenberg, Ray Palmer, E. 
A. Washburn, A. R. Thompson, Prof. Thomas C. Porter, 
the Rev. James Inglis, the Hon. E. C. Benedict, Mr. A. 
D. F. Randolph, Mrs. G. W. Hinsdale, and Mrs. Dr. 
H. B. Smith, for valuable contributions, as well as to 
those authors and publishers who kindly permitted him 
to use poems already known. 

Under each section the pieces are mostly arranged in 
chronological order, to enable the reader to trace the 
history of Christian life in song. It will be observed 
that the Church before the Reformation, celebrated 



Vlll 



PREFACE . 



mainly the great objective facts in Christ's life ( Christus 
fro nobis) ; while the hymi;iists after the Reformation, 
without neglecting the festival themes, brought out more 
fully the subjective application of Christ's merits, and 
our relation to Him ( Christus in nobis), A few mediae- 
val singers, especially St. Bernard in his "Jesu dulcis 
Memoria," have anticipated the deep fervor of that true 
evangelical piety, which consists in a personal apprehen- 
sion of Christ by faith, and immediate union and com- 
munion with Him, as the all-sufficient Fountain of grace 
and peace. 

I' need hardly add that the Collection is intended 
for private devotion, and hence includes many poems 
which would be out of place in a hymn-book for public 
worship. 

May He, whose holy name shines on every page, own 
and bless this labor of love to His own glory and praise, 
and to the joy and comfort of His people ; animating 
their songs in the house of their pilgrimage, until they 
adore Him face to face in the chorus of Redemption 
everlasting. 

p. s. 



5, Bible House, 
New York, Oct. 5, 1868. 



LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL SOURCES 



USED AND QUOTED IX THIS COLLECTION. 



I. For Ancieftt and MedicBval Hymnology. 

H. A. Daniel : Thesaurzcs Hymnologicus. Lipsiae, 1841-1856. 5 vols. Contains 
Latin, Greek, and Syriac Hj'mns. 

F. J. MoNE : Lateinische Hymtien des Mittelalters. Freiburg, 1853-1855. 3 vols. 

Philipp Wackernagel : Das Deutsche Kirchenlied von der dltesten Zeit bis zu 
Anfang des XVII. Jahrk. Leipzig, 1864-1865. 2 vols. Part of Vol. L, pp-, 
9-362, is devoted to Latin hymnology, with much curious literary and biblio- 
graphical information. 

Richard Chexevix Trench : Sacred Latin Poetry, chiefly Lyrical. Second 
edition, corrected and improved. London and Cambridge, 1864. 

J. Ch.andler : The Hytnns of t/te Primitive Church, nowjirst collected, translated, 
and arranged. London, 1837. 

J. M. Neale : Hymns of the Eastern Church. London, 1862, third edition, 1866. 

J. M. Neale: Mediaeval Hymns and Sequences. London. 1851, third edition, 
enlarged, 1867. 

Lyra Catholica, by Edward Caswall. London, 1849. New York, 1851 (with 
additions from Faber and others). 

II. For German Hymnology. 

Ph. Wackernagel : Das Deutsche Kirchenlied, &c. 1864-1865. 2 vols. 

Albert Knapp : Evangelischer Liederschatz. Stuttgart, third edition, 1865, contains 

3130 hymns. 
Phil. Schaff: Deutsches Gesa7igbuch. Philadelphia, first published 1859, and often 

since. (Large edition, with notes, &c.) 
Fr.\nces Elizabeth Cox: Sacred Hyifins fro7n the German. London, 1841; 

new edition, 1865. 
Lyra Germanica, by Catherine Winkworth. Second Series. London, 1855 

and 1858. Sixth edition, 1866. Also reprinted in New York. 
Hor^ Germanic.<e, by Henry Mills. New York and Auburn. Second edition, 

1856. 
Hymns from the Land of Luther. Translated from the Germaji. Edinburgh 

1858. New and enlarged edition, New York, 1866. 
Lyr.a. Domestica : Christian Sojtgs for Domestic Edification. Traiislated from. 

Spitta by Richard M.a.ssie. London, i860. 

III. For English Hym7iology. 

RouNDELL Palmer: The Book of Praise. London and Cambridge, 1S65. 

Charles Rogers : Lyra Britannica. A Collection of British Hy»tns printed 
from the genuine texts, &c. London, 1867. 

Good editions of the Poems of George Herbert, Watts, Wesley, Doddridge. 
Toplady, Cowper, Newton, Heber, Keble, Monsell, Faber, Bonar, 
Muhlenberg, Bethune, J. W. Alexander, R. Palmer, Mrs. Stowe, and 
other hymn-writers, and a number of hymnological collections by various authors. 



Mrs. Stowe, in a letter to the Editor, dated Sept. ii, 1868, in which she kindly 
permits him to use several of her poems, as " attempts at that great harmony in which 
one day all shall be one," informs him that the verse quoted in a footnote on p. 575, 
does belong to the poem as originally written, and was omitted from the published 
collection of her Poems by mistake ; the text being copied from the Plymouth Hymn- 
book, where also it is omitted. 



B 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



[The date generally indicates the time of composition ; or, where this could net be ascer- 
tained, the time of first publication, or the year of the author's death.] 



Salvator Mundi, 



Introductory. 

Author. 

Ray Palmer. 



Time of 
composition. Page. 

1868 1-5 



Part jFirst. 

CHRIST FOR us. 



The Advefzt. 






Thou Redeeiner, 


Ambrose. 


397 


9 


Behold ! the Bridegroom, 


From the Greek. 




II 


On Jordan's bank, 


From the Latin. 




12 


Draw nigh, draw nigh, 


From the Latin. 




14 


Once He came in blessing, 


M. Weiss. 


1531 


T-S 


Lift up jour heads, 


G. Weissel. 


1630 


17 


Let the earth now praise, 


H. Held. 


1643 


18 


Lord, how shall I be meeting. 


P. Gerhardt. 


T-^SZ 


20 


Plunged in a gulf, 


Is. Watts. 


1709 


24 


Messiah, at Thy glad approach. 


Michael Bruce. 


1767 


25 


Lo, He comes ! 


Th. Kelly. 


1809 


27 


Watchman ! tell us. 


Sir John Bowring. 


1825 


28 


When Jesus came to earth, 


Mrs. C. F. Alexander. 


1850 


30 


Zion, at thy shining gates. 


B. H. Kennedy. 




31 


He comes, no royal vesture, 


F. RUCKERT. 


1824 


33 


The Church has .waited long. 


Horatius Bonar. 


1856 


ZS 



Xll 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



The Incarnation. 



A great and mighty wonder, 

From where the rising sun, 

Of the Father's love begotten, 

From lands that see the sun, 

To-daj in Bethlehem hear I, 

All hail, thou night. 

Come hither, ye faithful, 

A child is'born in Bethlehem, 

There comes a galley laden, 

All praise to Thee, 

Good news from heaven, 

We sing to Thee, Immanuel, 

All my heart this night rejoices, 

While to Bethlehem, 

This is the month. 

Thou fairest Child Divine, 

Joy to the world. 

Hark, how all the welkin rings ! 

Hark, the glad sound! 

Oh, how wondrous is the story, 

When Jordan hushed his waters. 

Hark ! what mean those holy. 

Angels, from the realms of glory. 

What sudden blaze of song, 

'Tis come, the time so oft, 

The happy Christmas, 

Carol, brothers, carol, 

Come, ye lofty ! come, ye lowly I 

Joy and gladness, 

It came upon the midnight clear, 

Lo, God, our God, has come, 

In Bethlehem, the Lord of glory, 



Author. 
Anatolius. 
Ambrose. 
Prudentius. 
CcELius Sedulius. 
John of Damascus. 
From the Latin. 
From the Latin. 
From the Latin. 
John Tauler, 
NoTKER and Luther. 
Luther. 
P. Gerhardt. 
P. Gerhardt. 
Violante do Ceo. 
John Milton. 
G. Tersteegen. 
Isaac Watts. 
Chs. Wesley. 
Ph. Doddridge. 
Hannah More. 
Thomas Campbell. 
John Cawood. 
J. Montgomery. 
John Keble. 
Thos. Grinfield. 
From the Danish. 
Wm. a. Muhlenberg. 
Archer Gurney. 
G. W. Bethune. 
E. H. Sears. 

H. BONAR. 
FrIEDRICH RiJCKERT. 



Time of 



The Infant Saviour with the Virgin Moth 

The God whom earth and sea, From the Latin. 
When within His mother's arms. From the Latin. 



sition. 


Page. 


450 


39 


397 


40 


405 


43 


450 


45 


754 


47 




48 




49 




50 


1361 


52 




^Z 


1535 


54 


1656 


56 


1656 


58 


1693 


61 


1674 


62 


1731 


63 


1709 


65 


1739 


66 


1755 


68 


1833 


69 


1844 


73 


1852 


75 


1854 


76 


1827 


78 


1836 


81 




82 


1840 


84 




86 


1867 


88 


i860 


90 


1868 


92 


1867 


93 


er. 


99 




100 







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TABLE OF CONTENTS. 




xiii 








Time of 










Author. composition. 


Page. 






Sleep, Hol_y Babe, 


Edward Caswall. 




102 






Thou stand'st between the earth, 


Mrs. G. W. Hinsdale 


. 1867 


103 






Hail, infant martyrs ! 


Prudentius. 


405 


107 






The Mater Dolorosa, 


Mrs. H. B. Stowe, 


1867 


loS 






The Epiphany. 










A star shines forth in heaven, 


Ephr.^m Syrus. 


379 


III 






Bethlehem ! of noblest cities. 


Prudentius. 


405 


113 






What star is this, 


From the Latin, 




114 






O Christ, our true and only. 


JOHANN HeERMANN. 


1630 


116 






They gave to Thee, 


Jeremy Taylor. 


1650 


117 






All ye Gentile lands, awake ! 


JOHANN RiST. 


1655 


118 






The wondering sages trace, 


Ernst Lange. 


17^7 


120 






Sons of men, behold from far! 


Charles Wesley- 


1739 


121 






Brightest and best of the sons, 


Bishop Heber. 


1826 


122 






Christ, whose first appearance, 


Phil Spitta. 


1859 


123 






O Thou, who by a star. 


J. M. Neale. 


1866 


125 






As with gladness men of old. 


W. C. Dix. 


i860 


126 






The wise men to Thy cradle, 


C. F. Alexander. 


1867 


128 






We come not with a costly store, 


Anon. 




129 






Hail, kingly Jesus ! 


A. R. Thompson. 


1864 


130 






Christ's Life and Exainple. 










Holy Jesus, Fount of light! 


From the German. 




133 






Come, my Way, 


George Herbert. 


1632 


^y:> 






Earth has nothing sweet or fair. 


Angelus Silesius. 


1677 


136 






My dear Redeemer, 


Is. Watts. 


1719 


138 






Jesus, still lead on. 


Ct. Zinzendorf. 


1721 


139 






Oh for a heart to praise my God! 


Chs. Wesley. 


1742 


140 






Ever would I fain be reading, 


Louise Hensel. 




141 






Jesus, I my cross have taken. 


H. F. Lyte. 


1S33 


143 






Thou art the Way, 


G. W. DOANE. 


1S59 


145 






Behold, where, in a mortal form. 




1859 


146 






How beauteous were the marks, 


A. C. CoxE. 


1818 


147 






Thine handmaid, Saviour! 


W. A. Muhlenberg. 


1859 


148 






Thou Lord of all, on earth. 


S. P. Tregelles. 


1867 


149 




c 




Trustingly, trustingly. 


H. BONAR. 


1868 


151 




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xiv TABLE OF CONTENTS. 










The 


Passion. 












Time of 










Author. composition. 


Page. 






Sing, mj tongue, 


Venant. Fortunatus 


600 


155 






The royal banners forward go, 


Venant. Fortunatus 


600 


159 






Forth flames the standard, 


From the Latin. 




161 






Hail, thou Head! 


St. Bernard. 


1 153 


162 






Jesus' holy Cross and dying, 


Bona VENTURA. 


1274 


165 






O'erwhelmed in depths of woe. 


From the Latin. 




167 






Stnbat Mater Dolorosa, 


Jacopone. 


1306 


169 






What laws, my blessed Saviour, 


Johann Heermann. 


1630 


171 






O world ! behold upon the tree, 


Paul Gerhardt. 


16^3 


174 






O sacred Head! now wounded, 


Paul Gerhardt. 


1656 


178 






O sacred Head, surrounded. 


Paul Gerhardt. 


1656 


182 






Christ, the Life of all the living. 


E. C. HOMBURG. 


1659 


183 






Thou Holiest Love, 


Anon. 


1704 


185 






When I survey. 


Is. Watts. 


1709 


187 






Not all the blood of beasts. 


Is. Watts. 


1748 


188 






Him on yonder cross I love, 


J. E. Greding. 


1723 


189 






Jesus, Thy Blood, 


Ct. Zinzendorf. 


1739 


191 






Sweet the moments. 


Walter Shirley. 


1774 


193 






Surely Christ thy grie*fs. 


A. M. TOPLADY. 


1778 


194 






There is a fountain, 


W. Cowper. 


1779 


196 






Hark ! the voice of love, 


JOHNATHAN EVANS. 


1787 


198 






In the cross of Christ I glory, 


John Bowring. 


1825 


199 






We sing the praise of Him, 


Thomas Kelly. 


1855 


200 






Come to Calvary's holy mount. 


James Montgomery. 


1854 


202 






Fling out the Banner ! 


Bishop Doane. 


1859 


203 






Wherefore weep we over Jesus, 


Phil. Spitta. 


1836 


204 






Ride on, ride on in majesty. 


H. H. MiLMAN. 


1839 


206 






Bound upon the accursed tree. 


H. H. MiLMAN. 


1839 


207 






Ask ye what great thing. 


B. H. Kennedy. 


i860 


209 






Oppressed with noon-day's, 


HoRATius Bonar. 


1857 


210 






Cling to the Crucified! 


HoRATius Bonar. 


1857 


2ii 






I lay my sins on Jesus, 


HoRATius Bonar. 


1857 


212 






Wouldst thou learn the depth. 


J. S. B. MONSELL. 


i860 


214 






Mj sins, my sins, my Saviour ! 


J. S. B. MONSELL. 


1863 


215 






Jesus ! gentle Sufferer, say, 


J. S. B. MONSELL. 


1863 


217 




c 




Thou who didst hang. 


C. G. Rossetti. 


1866 


218 


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TABLE OF 


CONTENTS. 




XV 








Time of 










Author. compo 


sition. Page. 






O Jesus ! sweet the tears I shed, 


Ray Palmer. 


1867 


219 






Wonder of wonders I 


Ray Palmer. 


1867 


220 






O Head, so full of bruises ! 


Jos. Stammers. 


1867 


221 






When, wounded sore, 


Mrs. C. F. Alexander. 


1867 


222 






Are there no wounds for jne P 


Mrs. G. W. Hixsdale. 


1868 


223 






The Burial of Christ. 










EASTER EVE. 










The sepulchre is holding, 


From the Latin. 




227 






Rest of the weary ! 


Salomon FR^\jfK. 


1711 


228 






Resting from His work to-day, 


Anon. 


i860 


230 






Rest, weary Son of God, 


HORATIUS BONAR. 


1868 


231 


~ 




The Resurrectioiz. 










Hail, Day of days ! 


Venant. Fortunatus. 


600 


235 






The Supper of the Lamb, 


Old Hymnus Paschalis 




237 






We keep the festival, 


From the R. Breviary. 




238 






The Church of God, 


Greek Paschal Hymn. 




240 






If the dark and awful tomb, 


John of Damascus. 


787 


241 






'Tis the Daj^ of Resurrection, 


John of Damascus. 


787 


242 






Come, ye faithful. 


John of Damascus. 


787 


243 






This holy morn, so fair. 


R. Breviary. 9tl 


I cent. 


245 






The morning purples all the sky. 


R. Breviary. 




246 






Hallelujah! Hallelujah! 


From the Latin. 12th cent. 


248 






Behold the Day, the Lord, 


Adam of St. Victor. 


1172 


249 






Now thy gentle Lamb, O Sion, 


From the Latin. 




251 






Jesus Christ is risen to-day, 


From the Latin. 15th cent 


253 






Let Zion's sons and daughters. 


From the Latin. 




254 






Mary ! put thy grief away. 


From the Latin. 




256 






Still thy sorrow, Magdalena! 


From the Latin. 




257 






Christ the Lord is risen again ! 


Mich. Weiss. 


1531 


259 






In the bonds of death He lay. 


Martin Luther. 


1524 


261 






Ere yet the dawn. 


Johann Heermann. 


1630 


263 






Jesus, my Redeemer, lives. 


L. H., OF Brandenburg. 


1649 


265 






risen Lord ! 


Justus H. Boehmer. 


1706 


267 




Q 




Blessed morning. 


Is. Watts. 


1709 


269 






d 


kj 


-= 






c— 


bJ 


_J 



XVI 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



Welcome, Thou Victor, 

Glorious Head, Thou livest, 

" Christ the Lord is risen," 

Jesus lives, and so shall I, 

I say to all men, far and near, 

Come, ye saints. 

Morning breaks upon the tomb, 

Again the Lord of life and light. 

Sun, shine forth. 

The foe behind, the deep before. 

The Lord of life is risen ! 

The tomb is empty, 

Angels, roll the rock away ! 

O Jesus ! when I think. 

Awake, glad soul! awake. 

In Thj glorious Resurrection, 

Sing aloud, children ! 

Why should these eyes. 



Time of 
Author. composition. 

Benj. Schmolke. 1712 

G. Tersteegen. 1731 

Chs. Wesley. 1739 

C. F. Gellert. 1757 

NOVALIS. 1 80 1 

Ths. Kelly. 1804 

W. B. CoLLYER. 1812 

Anne L. Barbauld. 1825 

Phil. Spitta. 1833 

J. M. Neale. 1851 

J. P. Lange. 1851 

H. Bonar. 1862 
Gibbons. 

G. W. Bethune. 1862 

John S. B. Monsell. 1863 

Chr. Wordsworth. 1863 

A. R. Thompson. 1865 

Ray Palmer. 1867 



Page. 
270 

272 
273 
275 

277 

279 
280 
281 
283 
286 
288 
290 
292 
293 
294 
296 

299 
300 



T^e Ascensu 



A hymn of glory let us sing. 
Exalt, exalt, the heavenly, 
Jesus, Lord of life eternal, 
On earth awhile. 
To-day above the sky He soared, 
O Christ, who hast prepared, 
O Jesu, who art gone before. 
To-day our Lord went up. 
Since Christ is gone to heaven, 
Lo, God to heaven ascendeth! 
Hosanna to the Prince of light. 
Heavenward doth our journey. 
Conquering Prince and Lord, 
Hail the day that sees Him, 
Our Lord is risen from the dead. 
All hail the power. 
Soft cloud, that, 



Beda Venerabilis. 
Joseph of the Studium. 
Joseph of the Studium. 
Peter Abelard. 
From the Latin. 
From the Latin. 
From the Latin. 

JOHANN ZWICK. 

Jos. Wegelin. 
G. W. Sacer. 
Is. Watts. 
Benj. Schmolke. 
G. Tersteegen. 
Chs. Wesley. 
Chs. Wesley, 
E. Perronet. 
John Keble. 



735 


305 


830 


306 


830 


307 


1142 


308 




309 




311 




312 


1540 


313 


1637 


314 


1699 


315 


1709 


317 


I73T 


319 


1731 


321 


1739 


323 


1739 


325 


1785 


326 


1827 


328 





■" 










*• 


ry 




^"^ 


" 








3 


ci 
















> 




TABLE OF CONTENTS. 






svii 










Time of 










Author. composition. 


Page. 






Lamb, the once crucified ! 


Meta Heusser. 




1831 


330 






See, the Conqueror mounts, 


Chr. Wordsworth. 




1863 


334 






He is gone ; beyond the skies. 


A. P. Stanley. 






336 






Sing, O Heavens! 


J. S. B. Monsell. 




1863 


337 






Christ 


in Glory. 












HIS INTERCESSION AND REIGN. 












Christ, Thou the champion. 


M. A. vonLowenstern. 


1644 


341 






Mj Jesus, if the seraphim. 


W. C. Dessler. 




1692 


342 






Jesus shall reign. 


Is. Watts. 




1719 


345 






Behold the glories of the Lamb, 


Is. Watts. 






346 






Rejoice ! the Lord is King, 


Charles Wesley. 




1745 


348 






Now let our cheerful eyes, 


Phil. Doddridge. 




1 75 1 


349 






Where high the heavenly, 


Michael Bruce. 




1767 


350 






He who on earth as man, 


John Newton. 




1779 


352 






The Head that once. 


Thomas Kelly. 




1855 


353 






The atoning work is done. 


Thomas Kelly. 




1855 


354 






Hosanna! raise the pealing, 


Anon. 




1842 


356 






See, the ransomed millions. 


JOSIAH CoNDER. 




1855 


357 






Jesus is God I the solid earth. 


F. W. Faber. 




1862 


358 






King of kings, and wilt Thou, 


W. A. Muhlenberg. 




1859 


360 






O Christ, the Lord of heaven. 


Ray Palmer. 




1867 


361 






Christ Judging the World. 












God comes ; — and who shall. 


Theod. of the Studium 


. 826 


365 


• 




The Day is near, 


Theod. of the Studium 


. 826 


366 






That great Day of wrath. 


From the Latin. 


7th cent 


368 






Day of wrath ! that Day foretold. 


Thomas of Celano. 




1250 


372 






Day of wrath ! O Day, 


Dies Irce by Irons. 






376 






That Day of wrath ! 


Sir Walter Scott. 




1832 


379 






Lo, the Day ! — the Day of Life, 


From the Latin. 






3S0 






Wake, awake. 


Phil. Nikolai. 




1597 


382 






Rejoice, all ye believers, 


Laurentius Laurenti 


1700 


383 






Lo ! He comes. 


Chs. Wesley. 




1758 


385 






Day of judgment ! 


John Newton. 




1807 


388 




c 




The Lord will come ! 


Bishop Heber. 

B 




1826 


390 




> 


d 


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c — 








^ 












u 







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<^ 










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~ "^ 


t 












U 




Xviii TABLE OF CONTENTS. . 














Time of 










Author. composition. 


Page. 






Jesus, Thy Church, 


W. H. Bathurst. 


1830 


391 






The chariot! the chariot! 


H. H. MiLMAN. 


1^39 


392 






The Throne of His Glorj! 


W. A. Muhlenberg. 


1839 


393 






Late, late, so late ! 


Alfred Tennyson. 


1850 


394 






Come, Lord, and tarrj not. 


H. BONAR. 


1857 


395 






Hope of our hearts. 


Sir Edward Denny. 


1863 


398 






Bride of the Lamb, awake ! 


Sir Edward Denny. 


1863 


399 






^att ^ecottti. 










CHRIST IN US. 










T/ie Love and Loveliness of Christ. 










Jesu, name all names above. 


Theoctistus. 


890 


403 






Jesu ! the very thought of Thee, 


St. Bernard. 


^-^^z 


405 






O Jesu ! King most wonderful. 


St. Bernard. 




407 






O Jesu ! Thou the beauty art, 


St. Bernard. 




408 






Jesus, how sweet Thy memory. 


St. Bernard. 




409 






Heart of Christ, my King! 


St. Bernard. 




410 






Fairest Lord Jesus, 


Old German Song, i 


2th cent. 


413 






O Love, who formedst me. 


Angelus Silesius. 


1657 


414 






One thing's needful : 


J. H. Schroder. 


1697 


416 




« 


Dearest of all the names. 


Is. Watts. 


1709 


420 






Love Divine, all loves. 


Chs. Wesley. 


1746 


421 






How wondrous are the works, 


Jos. Hart. 


1759 


422 






The Saviour! O, what charms ! 


Anne Steele. 


1760 


424 






Hark, my soul ! it is the Lord, 


William Cowper. 


1779 


425 






How sweet the name of Jesus, 


John Newton. 


1779 


426 






One there is above all others. 


John Newton. 


1779 


428 






I was a wandering sheep. 


HORATIUS BoNAR. 


1857 


429 






Jesus, how much Thy name. 


Mary Peters. 


1856 


431 






Still on Thy loving heart, 


C. J. P. Spitta. 


1836 


432 






Our lot is fallen in pleasant. 


C. J. P. Spitta. 


1836 


434 




c 




Beneath the shadow. 


S. Longfellow. 


1846 


436 


) 


d 












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TABLE OF CONTENTS, 



XIX 



Jesus' name shall ever be, 
In the silent midnight watches, 
There is no love like the love, 
Souls of men, why will ye, 
I bore with thee long, 
Listen to the wondrous story. 
There was no ansrel, 



Time of 
Author. compoiition. 


Page. 


W. A. MUHLEXBERG. 


1842 


437 


A. C. COXE. 


1838 


43S 


W. E. LiTTLEWOOD. 




439 


F. W. Faber. 


1S62 


440 


C. G. ROSSETTI. 


1S65 


443 


Ellin Isab. Tupper. 


1S67 


444 


Mrs. Hinsdale. 


1 868 


446 



Christ our Refuge and Strength. 



Fierce was the wild billow, 
Art thou weary, 
Lord Jesus Christ, 
Courage, my tempted heart. 
Now I have found the ground, 
Jesu, lover of my soul, 
Rock of ages, cleft for me, 
Jesus, pro me perforatus. 
Awake, sweet harp of Judah, 
When through the torn sail, 
From ever}' stormy wind, 
Saviour! when, in dust, 
When gathering clouds, 
When our heads are bowed. 
With tearful eyes. 
Just as I am. 
Just as thou art, 
I heard the voice of Jesus say, 
A sinful man am I, 
Lo ! the storms of life, 
There is an everlasting home. 
Tossed with rough winds. 
My Saviour, 'mid life's varied, 
The way is long and dreary, 
In the hours of pain, . 
Amid the darkness, 
I need Thee, precious Jesu, 



Anatolius. 


458 


451 


Stephen the Sabaite. 


794 


452 


JOHANN SCHNEESIXG. 


1522 


4.H 


J. H. BOHMER. 


1704 


455 


J. A. ROTHE. 


1728 


457 


Chs. Wesley. 


1740 


459 


A. M. TOPLADY. 


1776 


461 


ToPLADY. Gladstone 


1S48 


462 


Henry Kirke White. 


1S06 


464 


Bishop Heber. 


1S26 


465 


Hugh Stowell. 


1S31 


466 


Sir Robert Grant. 


1838 


467 


Sir Robert Grant. 


. 1838 


469 


H. H. Milman. 


1839 


470 


Hugh White. 


1841 


472 


Charlotte Elliott. 


1836 


47.S 


Russell S. Cook. 


1864 


474 


HoRATius Bonar. 


1856 


476 


HoRATius Bonar. 


1868 


477 


Henry Alford. 


1864 


475 


M. Bridges. 


1852 


479 


Mrs. Charles. 


1867 


480 


Mrs. Godwin. 


1867 


4S2 


Adelaide A. Procter. 


1864 


483 


Helen L. Parmelee. 


1865 


4S4 


Ray Palmer. 


1867 


486 


F. Whitfield. 


1S67 


487 





f 










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r 






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9 




XX TABLE OF CONTENTS. 










CAri's^ 


our Peace. 












Time of 










Author. composition. 


Page. 






O Friend of souls ! how blest, 


W. C. Dessler. 


1692 


491 






Thou hidden Source, 


Chs. Wesley. 


1740 


493 






The world can neither give, 


Lady Huntingdon. 


■ 1780 


494 






Come, weary souls. 


Anne Steele. 


1778 


495 






Jesus, my Lord, Thy nearness, 


Christian Gregor. 


1778 


496 






O for a closer walk with God ! 


W. Cowper. 


1779 


498 






Why should I fear? 


John Newton. 


1779 


499 






Jesus, my Lord ! my life ! 


S. Medley. 


1799 


501 






If only I have Thee, 


NOVALIS. 


1 801 


502 






Trembling before Thy throne. 


A. L. Hillhouse. 


1822 


504 






Yes ! our Shepherd leads, 


F. A. Krummacher. 


1830 


505 






Long did I toil. 


H. F. Lyte. 


1833 


507 






O blessed Sun, whose splendor. 


C. J. P. Spitta. 


1836 


S08 






Now I have found a friend, 


Henry Hope. 


1852 


511 






Through the love of God, 


Mrs. Mary Peters. 


1847 


513 






Rest, weary soul ! 


Anon. 


1859 


514 






I've found a joy in sorrow, 


Mrs. Jane Crewdson. 


1863 


515 






Let not your heart be faint. 


John A. Latrobe. 


1863 


517 






Rest of the weary. 


John S. B. Monsell. 


1863 


518 






Jesus, my Lord, 'tis sweet. 


Anon. 


1865 


519 






When across the heart, 


Canterbury Hymnal. 


1863 


521 






Sweet was the hour, O Lord, 


Sir E. Denny. 


1863 


522 






When winds are raging, 


Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 


1867 


523 






Alone with Thee ! 


Ray Palmer. 


1867 


524 






Jesus ! the rays divine, 


Mrs. G. W. Hinsdale. 


1868 


526 






Abide with me ! 


H. F. Lyte. 


1847 


527 






J^ait/i 


in Christ. 










When sins and fears prevailing. 


Anne Steele. 


1778 


531 






See a poor sinner, dearest Lord, 


S. Medley. 


1799 


532 






Amid life's wild commotion. 


C. J. Asschenfeld. 


1819 


533 






I know in whom I put my trust, 


E. M. Arndt. 


1819 


534 






My faith looks up to Thee, 


Ray Palmer. 


1830 


536 






Hallelujah ! I believe ! 


H. MowEs. 


1831 


537 




€ 




O holy Saviour, Friend unseen, 


Charlotte Elliott. 


1836 


539 




» 


CI 














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^ 















TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



XXI 



I once was a stranger, 

While Faith is with me, 

We were not with the faithful, 

Life's mjsterj. 

When time seems short. 

Strong Son of God, 



Time of 
Author. composition. 

R. M. jNIcCheyne. 1843 
Anne Bronte. 

Canterbury Hymnal. 1863 

Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 1867 

G. W. Bethune. 1862 

Alfred Tennyson. 1849 



Page. 
540 
542 
543 
544 
546 
547 



Unio7i with Christ. 



How lovely shines, 

Lord, Thou art mine, 

I leave Thee not. 

My Saviour! I am Thine ! 

Jesus immutably the same. 

Jesus, lead us with Thy power, 

Sun of my soul, 

Ah ! Jesus, let me hear. 

When in the hour of lonely, 

In Thy service wull I ever, 

O happ3^ house I where Thou, 

Chief of sinners though I be, 

On Thee, O Jesus ! 

Lord, let my heart still turn. 

That mystic word of Thine, 

Still, still with Thee, 

Jesus ! I live to Thee, 

O blessed Lord ! 



Phil. Nikolai. 
George Herbert. 
W. C.Dessler. 
Phil. Doddridge. 

A. M. TOPLADY. 

W. Williams. 
John Keble. 
Andrew Reed. 
JosiAH Conder. 
Phil. Spitta. 
Phil. Spitta. 
Wm. McComb. 
horatius bonar. 
Lady Powerscourt. 
Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 
Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 
H. Harbaugh. 
A. D. F. Randolph. 



1597 


551 


1632 


554 


1722 


555 


1755 


558 


1776 


559 


I79I 


561 


1827 


562 


I84I 


564 


1855 


565 


1836 


566 


1859 


56S 


1864 


570 


1868 


571 


1865 


573 


1867 


574 


1867 


575 


IS67 


577 



1868 57J 



The Holy Communio?i. 



O Lamb of God, who, bleeding. 
Sing, my tongue, 
Sing, and the mystery declare, 
O Bread of Life from heaven, 
Deck thj'self, my soul, 
Suffering Saviour, 



Nik. Decius. 


1523 


583 


Thomas Aquinas. 


1274 


5S4 


Thomas AquiNAS. 


1274 


587 


From the Latin. 


14th cent. 


589 


JoHANN Frank 


1650 


590 


Anon. 




592 



XXll 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



'Twas on that dark, 

In memorj'- of the Saviour's, 

Body of Jesus, O sweet food ! 

O God, unseen, vet ever near, 

Jesu, to Thy table led. 

By Christ redeemed, 

Lo, the feast is spread to-day! Henry Alford. 





Time of 




Author. 


composition. 


Page. 


Is. Watts. 


1748 


594 


Anon. 


1843 


595 


A. C. CoxE. 


1858 


595 


Anon. 


i860 


596 


RoBT. H. Baynes. 


1863 


597 


Anon. 


1863 


598 



1865 600 



Love and Gratitude to Christ. 



Jesus, Thou Joy of loving hearts, 
I give my heart to Thee, 
Jesus, I love Thee, 
Jesus, I love Thee evermore, 

Lord ! I love Thee, 
Jesus, Thy boundless love, 

1 place an offering, 
The Lord of all things. 
Yes : I will always love, 
O Love divine, 

Jesus, I love Thy name. 
Compared with Christ, 
When this passing world. 
Oh how could I forget Him, 
O abide, abide in Jesus ! 
More than all, 
Lovest thou Me .? 
Jesu, my Lord, my God, 
Jesus, these eyes have never. 
That Holy One, 



St. Bernard. 


1 153 


603 


From the Latin. 




604 


Francis Xavier. 


1540 


606 


From the Latin. 




608 


Martin Schalling. 


1571 


609 


Paul Gerhardt. 


1653 


611 


Mme. Guyon. 


1717 


612 


Mme. Guyon. 


1717 


613 


Mme. Guyon. 


1717 


614 


Chs. Wesley. 


1749 


615 


Ph. Doddridge. 


1751 


617 


A. M. TOPLADY. 


1772 


618 


R. M. McCheyne. 


1843 


619 


G. Chr. Kern. 


1835 


622 


Ph. Spitta. 


1836 


623 


Albert Knapp. 


1823 


625 


J. Montgomery. 


1853 


626 




i860 


627 



Ray Palmer. 

A. D. F. Randolph. 



1858 628 
1867 629 



For Ever zuith Christ. 



My home in heaven alone, 
Cease, ye tearful mourners, 
No more, ah, no more. 
With terror Thou dost strike. 



Gregory Nazianzen. 390 633 

Prudentius. 405 635 

Prudentius. 405 638 

Peter Damiani. 1072 640 





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TABLE OF CONTENTS. 


xxiii 








Ti 


me of 










Author. composition. 


Paee. 






Brief life is here our portion, 


Bernard of Cluxy. 


1 145 


643 






For thee, O dear, dear Country. 


Bernard of Cluny. 


1 145 


645 






Jerusalem the golden, 


Bernard of Cluny. 


1 1 45 


647 






The Life above, 


St. Teresa. 


1582 


649 






Lord, it belongs not to my care, 


Richard Baxter. 


1691 


651 






Thou shalt rise 1 


F. G. Klopstock. 


1S03 


652 






Asleep in Jesus ! 


Margaret ^Lvckay. 


1832 


653 






Let me be with Thee, 


Charlotte Elliott. 


1836 


654 






We speak of the realms. 


Mrs. Wilson. 


1S37 


655 






Since o'er Thy footstool, 


W. A. Muhlenberg. 


1824 


656 






Oh, Paradise must fairer be ! 


FrIEDRICH RiJCKERT. 


1866 


657 






O Paradise ! O Paradise ! 


F. W. Faber. 


1S62 


659 






No, no, it is not dying. 


C-52SAR MaLAN. 


1841 


661 






It is not death to die, 


George W. Bethune. 


1847 


662 






O sweet home-echo ! 


Mrs. M. HEufesER. 


1845 


663 






There is a blessed home, 


Sir H. W. Baker. 


1861 


665 






Star of morn and even, 


F. T. Palgrave. 


1862 


667 






Heaven ! Sweet Heaven ! 


Edwin H- Nevin. 


1862 


668 






Oh for the robes of whiteness ! 


Charitie Lees Smith. 




669 






Oh for the peace which floweth, 


Jane Crewdson. 


1S63 


670 






We shall see Him, 


Anon. 


1868 


672 






Praise and Adoration of Christ. 










Shepherd of tender youth. 


Clement of Alex. 


20D 


675 






Thee we adore, eternal Lord, 


From the Te Deum. 


400 


677 






I greet Thee, 


John Calvin. 


1564 


678 






Come, let us join, 


Is. Watts. 


1709 


681 






O for a thousand tongues ! 


Chs. Wesley. 


1740 


6S2 






Awake, and sing the song, 


Wm. Hammond. 


1745 


684 






Hail, Thou once despised Jesus ! 


John Bake well. 


1760 


685 






Now let us join, 


John Newton. 


1779 


687 






Awake, my soul, in joyful lays, 


S. Medley. 


1799 


688 






Hosanna to the living Lord ! 


Bishop Heber. 


1827 


690 






Thou whom we seek, 


L. Uhland. 


1833 


691 






To Him, who for our sins, 


A. T. Russell. 


1 85 1 


692 






Thou that art the Father's, 


Henry Alford. 


1S65 


693 




c 














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. 





XXIV 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



Praise to Jesus ! 
Thou King anointed, 
Glory be to God the Father ! 



Author. 

William Ball. 
James Inglis. 

H. BONAR. 



Time of 
composition. Page. 

1864 694 

1868 696 

1868 698 



FINALE. 
Christ the theme of song, A. D. F. Randolph. 1868 699 




SALVATOR MUNDI. 



By the Rev. Ray Palmer, D.D., New York. (Bora at Little Compton, R.I., 
iSo8, author of " My faith looks up to Thee.") Written for this Collection, as a 
Prelude, at the request of the Editor, February, 1868. 



/^AH ! long and darksome was the night 
^^^ That in dull watches wore away, 
With moon and stars alone to ligfht 
A world bewildered and astray ; 

While oft thick shade and murky cloud 
Pale moon and stars did deep enshroud ; 
And nations looked, and hoped in vain 
That over earth, of guilt and sorrow. 
Of sin and hate, the sad domain. 
Might dawn a bright and cheerful morrow. 

'Twas not. Eternal Love, that Thou 

Hadst lost Thy care for mortal men : 
No, Thou didst yearn of old, as now. 
To fold them to Thy heart again ; 

Thou didst but wait till men might know 
That sin's ripe fruits were death and woe ; 
Till, worn and sick of fruitless grief, 
Of lust's foul cup to loathing taken, 
With longing they might crave relief 
Ere yet of God and hope forsaken. 
I 



SALVATOR MUNDI. 

There were who heard with trusting heart, 

E'en then. Thy words of hope and cheer ; 
Who saw by faith the night depart, 
And morning break serene and clear. 
On holy prophets shone afar 
The gleam of Jacob's promised Star ; 
The rising of the Lord of day, 
That, o'er the world his radiance throwing, 
Should chase the spectral night away. 
And mount to noon resplendent glowing. 



fr 



4 

I 



When Thou, O Christ! of flesh wast born, 

To greet Thee in Thy humble bed, 
Though earth Thy lowliness should scorn. 
Celestial bands with rapture sped ; 
At midnight on the silent air 
Thy birth their floating strains declare : 
The shepherds catch the thrilling lay, 
In harmonies their senses steeping ; 
Then to Thy manger take their way. 
And gaze on Thee, an infant sleeping ! 



While Thou didst dwell with men below, 

'Twas morning twilight's early blush ; 
Thy light yet veiled, 'twas Thine to know 

Sweet childhood's dream, youth's joyous flush 
Then manhood's burdens, cares, and fears. 
Its toils and weariness and tears ; 
Tears shed for human grief and woes 
Mark Thee, of all, the Man of Sorrows ; 







vSALVATOR MUNDI. 

And through Thy life the grandeur grows 
That manhood from the Godhead borrows ! 

When, all forsaken of Thine own, 

Robed in mock purple Thou didst stand, 
Thou wast a King — without a throne ; 
A Sovereign Lord — without command ; 
'Neath purple robe and thorns concealed, 
Divinity its light revealed ; 
Upon the Roman's heart it fell, 
And its keen flash, his conscience waking. 
Wrought in him like some mighty spell. 
The pride of his strong spirit breaking. 

When came at last Thy darkest hour, 

On which the sun refused to look. 
Though hell seemed armed with conquering power, 

And earth, as seized with terror, shook; 
Though from Thy lips the d3nng cry, 
By anguish wrung, went up on high ; 
Still, 'mid the darkness and the fear, 
O Son of God ! Thy life resigning. 
Thou didst to those that saw appear 
The Light of men, — eclipsed, yet shining! 

E'en the dark tomb of chiselled rock 

Thy glory could not all repress : 
A moment hid, with earthquake shock 
Abroad it streamed again to bless : 
Angels first caught the vision bright. 
Then broke its beams on mortal sight ; 



u 



SALVATOR MUNDI. 



The Conqueror of Death and Hell, 
Thou stoodst, Thine own each word attending, 
Till on their wistful eyes there fell 
Splendors divine from Thee ascending ! 



i 



For ever on the unveiled throne, 

O Lamb divine ! enrobed in light, 
Thou life and love, and joy unknown, 

Dost shed while ages wing their flight ; 
The cherubim before Thee bow ; 
The fulness of the Godhead Thou ! 
Thy uncreated beauty greets 
The longing eyes that, upward gazing, 
Feast on Th}'^ smile, that ever meets 
Thy saints that wait before Thee praising. 

Head over all ! 'tis Thine to reign ; 

The groaning earth with joy shall see 
What ages sought, but sought in vain, 
The balm for all its woes in Thee ; 

Eyes fixed on Thee shall dry their tears ; 

Hearts stayed on Thee shall lose their fears ; 
Fair innocence and love shall breathe 
Their fragrant breath o'er vale and mountain. 
And Faith pure altars shall enwreathe. 
And nations bathe in Calvary's fountain. 

Crowned Lord of lords, Thy power shall bring 

All Thine Thy glory to partake ; 
Thyself enthroned Eternal King, 

Of them Thy love shall Princes make ; 



B 






SALVATOR MUNDI. 

And Priests, that in the Holy Place 
Shall serve, adorned and full of grace ; 

The Church, Thy queenly Bride, shall stand 

In vesture like Thy brightness shining, 

Content to clasp Thy royal hand. 

All other love for Thine resigning. 

O Love beyond all mortal thought ! 

Unquenchable by flood or sea ! 
Love that, through death, to man hath brought 

The life of Immortality ! 

Thou dost enkindle Heaven's own fire 
In hearts all dead to high desire. 
Let love for love our souls inflame, 
The perfect love that faileth never ; 
And sweet Hosannas to Thy Name 
Through Heaven's vast dome go up for ever ! 



s 




THE ADVENT. 



" Arise, shine ; for thy light is come, and the gloiy of the Lord is risen upon 
thee." — IsA. Ix. i. 

" The night is far spent, the day is at hand : let us therefore cast ofif the works of 
darkness, and let us put on the armor of light." — Rom. xiii. 12. 



A LMIGHTY GOD, Father of all mercies, we render Thee 
most hearty thanks, that after man, created in Thine own 
image, had fallen under the curse of sin and death. Thou didst 
not leave him to perish in helpless misery, but didst provide a 
Saviour, and proclaim to the fathers, by the mouth of Thy proph- 
ets and holy men of old, the Advent of Thy dear Son, the Hope 
of Israel, the Desire of all nations, the Redeemer of the world, 
that, b}'^ believing on Him, w^e might have the forgiveness of sins, 
and life everlasting : to whom, with Thee and the Holy Ghost, 
ever one God, be glory and thanksgiving, world without end. 
Amen. 

" Tandem fluctus, tandem luctu?, 
Sol erumpens temperat ; 
Nunc aurora, rupta mora, 
Lucem lactam nunciat." 

Oi-u Hymn. 



e 



THE ADVENT. 



O THOU REDEEMER OF OUR RACE! 

(^Ve7ii, Redemptor gentiumS) 



From the Latin of St. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, the father of Latin church 
poetry (died 397). Translated for this Collection by the Rev. Dr. Ray Palmer, 
April, 1868. The best of the Ambrosian hymns (except the Te Deum^ which is older), 
full of faith, rugged vigor, austere simplicity, and bold contrasts, but of objectionable 
taste in st. 3, which is here smoothed down. It has been freely reproduced in Ger- 
man by Luther {Nu komm der Heiden Heiland)^ John Frank {Komm, Heiden- 
heiiaftd, L':segeld)^ and others (see Schaff's German Hymn Book, No. 72), and 
several times in English. Dr. J. M. Neale's version, "Come, Thou Redeemer of 
the Earth," retains the harsh features of the original, and is not as happy as some 
other translations of this great master. Upon the whole, I prefer Dr. Palmer's (which 
here appears for the first time) to other English translations. St. Augustine, in 
his "Confessions," testifies to the effect of the hymns and music introduced into the 
church of Milan by Ambrose, his spiritual father. " How did I weep, O Lord ! 
through Thy hymns and canticles, touched to the quick by the voices of Thy sweet- 
attuned church 1 The voices sank into mine ears, and the truths distilled into my 
heart, whence the affections of my devotions overflowed ; tears ran down, and I 
rejoiced in them." 



/^ THOU Redeemer of our race ! 
^-^ Come, show the Virgin's Son to earth ; 
Let every age admire the grace ; 
Worthy a God Thy human birth ! 

'Twas by no mortal will or aid, 
But by the Holy Spirit's might, 
That flesh the Word of God was made, 
A babe yet waiting for the light. 



wmmmm 



a 



lO 



THE ADVENT. 



Spotless remains the Virgin's name, 
Although the Holy Child she bears ; 
And virtue's banners round her flame, 
While God a temple so prepares. 

As if from honors royal hall. 
Comes forth at length the Mighty One, 
Whom Son of God and Man they call. 
Eager His destined course to run.^ 

Forth from the Father's bosom sent, 
To Him returned, He claimed His own ; 
Down to the realms of death He went. 
Then rose to share the eternal throne. 



An equal at the Father's side. 

Thou wear'st the trophy ^ of Thy flesh ; 

1 In the original : " Geminae gigas substantias, 

Alacris ut ciirrat viam." 

The giajit of two-fold substance is an allusion to the " giants " 
of Gen. vi. 4, who, by some of the early Fathers, were sup- 
posed to have been of a double substance; being the offspring 
of the " sons of God," or angels (?), and the " daughters of men," 
and who furnished a forced resemblance to the two-fold nature of 
Christ, according to the mystical interpretation of Ps. xix. 5, 
"as a bridegroom cometh out of his chamber, ... as a strong 
man to run a race," which was referred to the earthly course of 
the Redeemer. Comp. Ambrosius : De incarnat. Domini^ c. 5. 

2 Not " mantle." Trofcso or trofhceo is undoubtedly the true 
reading (for stropheo or strofkio'). The Fathers frequently call 
the risen flesh of Christ tropceum, rponaiov Kara daifiovuv, a trophy 
erected as a monument of His victory over death. — Daniel: 
Thesaurus Hymnol.^ I. p. 14; Trench: Sacred Latin Poetry,, 
2d ed., p. 69. 



BEHOLD, THE BRIDEGROOM COMETH. II 

In Thee our nature shall abide 

In strength complete, in beaut}^ fresh. 

With light divine Thy manger streams, 
That kindles darkness into day ; 
Dimmed by no night henceforth, its beams 
Shine through all time ^vith changeless ray. 



BEHOLD, THE BRIDEGROOM COMETH. 



Midnight Hymn of the Eastern Church. From the Greek, by G. jMoultkie, 
HyTtins attd Lyrics, &c., Lond. 1S67. 



TOEHOLD, the Bridegroom cometh in the middle 

-D of the night. 

And blest is he whose loins are girt, whose lamp is 
burning bright ; 

But woe to that dull servant whom the Master shall 
surprise 

With lamp untrimmed, unburning, and with slum- 
ber in his eyes ! 

Do thou, m}^ soul, beware, beware, lest thou in 

sleep sink down, 
Lest thou be given o'er to death, and lose the golden 

crown ; 
But see that thou be sober, with watchful eyes, and 

thus 
Cry, " Holy, holy, holy God, have mercy upon us ! " 



mmm 



12 THE ADVENT. 

That day, the day of fear, shall come : my soul, 

slack not thy toil. 
But light thy lamp, and feed it well, and make it 

bright with oil ; 
Who knowest not how soon may sound the cry at 

eventide, 
"Behold, the Bridegroom comes ! Arise ! Go forth 

to meet the Bride." 

Beware, my soul ; beware, beware, lest thou in 

slumber lie. 
And, like the five, remain without, and knock and 

vainly cry ; 
But watch, and bear thy lamp undimmed, and 

Christ shall gird thee on 
His own bright wedding-robe of light, — the glory 

of the Son. 



ON JORDAN'S BANK THE BAPTIST'S 
CRY. 

(^Jordanis oras frcBvia vox ecce Baptistce quatit.') 



From the Latin, by the Rev. J. Chandler. I'he Hymns of the Primitive 
Church, Lond. 1837. 

/^N Jordan's bank, the Baptist's cry 
^^ Announces that the Lord is nigh : 
Come, then, and hearken ; for He brings 
Glad tidings from the King of kings. 



ON JORDAN S BANK THE BAPTISTS CRY. I3 

E'en now the air, the sea, the land, 
Feel that their Maker is at hand ; 
The very elements rejoice. 
And welcome Him with cheerful voice. 

Then cleansed be every Christian breast. 
And furnished for so great a Guest ! 
Yea, let us each our hearts prepare 
For Christ to come and enter there. 

For Thou art our salvation, Lord, — 
Our refuge and our great reward ; 
Without Thy grace, our souls must fade, 
And wither like a flower decayed. 

Stretch forth Thy hand, to heal our sore, 
And make us rise, to fall no more ; 
Once more upon Thy people shine, 
And fill the world with love divine. 

To Him, who left the throne of heaven 
To save mankind, all praise be given ! 
Like praise be to the Father done. 
And Holy Spirit, — Three in One ! 



14 THE ADVENT. 

DRAW NIGH, DRAW NIGH, EMMANUEL, 

( Vefii, vejii, Emmanuel.) 



From the Latin of the twelfth century, by Dr. J. M. Neale (died 1866) : Medicuval 
Hymns and Sequences, 3d ed., Lond. 1S67. "This Advent hymn is little more than 
a versification of some of the Christmas antiphons commonly called the O's." It is 
found also in the Hymnal Noted; in Hymns Ancient and Modern, and other collec- 
tions. See the Latin in Daniel, Thes., Tom. IL p. 336. 



"T^RAW nigh, draw nigh, Emmanuel, 
-^^^ And ransom captive Israel, 
That mom'ns in lonely exile here. 
Until the Son of God appear. 
Rejoice ! rejoice ! Emmanuel 
Shall be born for thee, O Israel ! 

Draw nigh, O Jesse's Rod ! draw nigh, 
To free us from the enemy, 
From hell's infernal pit to save. 
And give us victory o'er the grave. 
Rejoice ! rejoice ! Emmanuel 
Shall be born for thee, O Israel! 

Draw nigh. Thou Orient, Who shalt cheer 
And comfort by Thine Advent here. 
And banish far the brooding gloom 
Of sinful night and endless doom. 
Rejoice ! rejoice ! Emmanuel 
Shall be born for thee, O Israel ! 




ONCE HE CAME IN BI.ESSING. 1 5 

Draw nigh, draw nigh, O David's Key ; 
The heavenly gate will ope to Thee : 
Make safe the way that leads on high, 
And close the path to misery. 
Rejoice ! rejoice ! Emmanuel 
Shall be born for thee, O Israel ! 

Draw nigh, draw nigh, O Lord of Might, 
Who to Thy tribes, from Sinai's height, 
In ancient time didst give the law, 
In cloud and majesty and awe. 
Rejoice ! rejoice ! Emmanuel 
Shall be born for thee, O Israel I 



ONCE HE CAME IN BLESSING. 



From the German of Michael Weiss, who reproduced the old hymns of the 
Bohemian (Moravian) Brethren in German, 1531. Translated by Miss Catherine 
WiNKWORTH, 1862. 



/^NCE He came in blessing, 
^^ All our ills redressing, — 
Came in likeness lowly, 
Son of God most holy ; 
Bore the Cross to save us, 
Hope and freedom gave us. 



l6 THE ADVENT. 

Still He comes within us ; 
Still His voice would win us 
From the sins that hurt us, 
Would to Truth convert us 
From our foolish errors, 
Ere He comes in terrors. 

Thus, if thou hast known Him, 
Not ashamed to own Him, 
Nor dost love Him coldly, 
But will trust Him boldly, 
He will now receive thee. 
Heal thee, and forgive thee. 

But through many a trial, 
Deepest self-denial. 
Long and brave endurance. 
Must thou win assurance 
That His own He makes thee, 
And no more forsakes thee. 

He who thus endureth. 
Bright reward secureth : 
Come, then, O Lord Jesus ! 
From our sins release us ; 
Let us here confess Thee, 
Till in heaven we bless Thee. 



LIFT UP YOUR HEADS, YE MIGHTY GATES ! 1 7 



LIFT UP YOUR HEADS, YE MIGHTY 
GATES ! 

{Macht kock die T/i'ur\ die Thor' inacht iveii.) 



Abridged from the German of Georg Weissel, 1630. Based upon Ps. xxiv., as 
applied to the coming of Christ in the flesh. The original has five stanzas, of eight 
unequal lines each, and is translated in Lyra Gerjn., I. pp. 10, 11. The Canterbury 
Hymnal has reduced the whole to three stanzas, of six lines each. 



T IFT up your heads, ye mighty gates ! 
^^ Behold, the King of glory waits ; 
The King of kings is drawing near, 
The Saviour of the world is here. 

The Lord is just, a Helper tried ; 
Mercy is ever at His side : 
His kingly crown is holiness ; 
His sceptre, pit}^ in distress. 

Oh, blest the land, the city blest. 
Where Christ the Ruler is confessed ! 
Oh, happy hearts and happy homes 
To whom this King of triumph comes ! 

Fling wide the portals of your heart ; 
Make it a temple, set apart 
From earthly use for heaven's employ, 
Adorned with prayer and love and joy. 



1 8 THE ADVENT. 

Redeemer, come I I open wide 
My heart to Thee : here, Lord, abide ! 
Let me Thy inner presence feel. 
Thy grace and love in me reveal. 

So come, my Sovereign ! enter in, 
Let new^ and nobler life begin ; 
Thy Holy Spirit guide us on. 
Until the glorious crov^n be won ! 



LET THE EARTH NOW PRAISE 
THE LORD. 

{^Gott set Dank durch alle Welt.') 



A popular German Advent hjann, by Heinrich Held, a lawyer of Silesia, died 
1643. Translated by Miss C. Winkworth, in the original metre, omitting ver. 7 
{^Choral Book for Engla7td^ 1862). 



T ET the earth now praise the Lord, 
-'-^ Who hath truly kept His word. 
And the sinner's Help and Friend 
Now at last to us doth send. 

What the fathers most desired, 
What the prophets' hearts inspired. 
What they longed for many a year, 
Stands fulfilled in glory here. 



LET THE EARTH NOW PRAISE THE LORD. 

Abram's promised great Reward, 
Zion's Helper, Jacob's Lord, 
Him of twofold race, behold, 
Truly come, as long foretold. 

Welcome, O my Saviour, now ! 
Hail ! my Portion, Lord, art Thou ! 
Here, too, in my heart I pray, — 
Oh prepare Thyself a way. 



19 



Enter, King of glory, in ! 
Purify the wastes of sin, 
As Thou hast so often done : 
This belongs to Thee alone. 

As Thy coming was all peace, 
Noiseless, full of gentleness. 
Let the same mind dwell in me 
That was ever found in Thee. 



Bruise for me the serpent's head, 
That, set free from doubt and dread, 
I may cleave to Thee in faith. 
Safely kept through life and death. 

And when Thou dost come again, 
As a glorious King to reign, 
I with joy may see Thy face. 
Freely ransomed by Thy grace. 



20 THE ADVENT 



LORD, HOW SHALL I BE MEETING? 

( IVi'e soil icJi Dick emfifangen /) 



By Paul Gerhardt, the prince of German liymnists, 1653. Translated, in tlie 
spirit and metre of the original, by Dr. James W. Alexander (died 1859), and first 
published in Schaff's Deutsche Kirchenfreiuui, RIercersburg, for 1S50 (p. 176). 
Another version by Miss Catherine Winkwokth, 1855 : " How shall I meet Thee? 
how, my heart?" 



T ORD, how shall I be meeting, 
"^^ And how shall I embrace 
Thee, earth's desire, when greeting 

My soul's adorning grace? 
O Jesus, Jesus ! holding 

Thyself the flame in sight. 
Show how, Thy beam beholding, 

I may my Lord delight. 

Fresh palms Thy Zion streweth, 

And branches ever green. 
And psalms my voice reneweth. 

To raise my joy serene. 
Such budding tribute paying, 

My heart shall hymn Thy praise, 
Thy holy name obeying 

With chiefest of my lays. 



LORD, HOW SHALL I BE MEETING? 21 

What hast Thou left ungranted, 

To give me glad relief? 
When soul and body panted 

In utmost depth of grief, 
In hour of degradation. 

Thy peace and pity smiled, 
Then Thou, my soul's salvation, 

Didst happy make Thy child. 

I lay in slavish mourning. 

Thou cam'st to set me free ; 
I sank in shame and scorning, 

Thou cam'st to comfort me. 
Thou raisedst me to glory. 

Bestowing highest good, 
Not frail and transitor}^ 

Like wealth on earth pursued. 

Naught, naught did send Thee speeding 

From mansions of the skies, 
But love all love exceeding. 

Love able to comprise 
A world in pangs despairing, 

Weighed down with thousand woes 
That tongue would fail declaring. 

But love doth fast inclose. 

Grave on your heart this writing, 
O band of mourners poor ! 



22 THE ADVENT. 

With pains and sorrows fighting, 
That throng you more and more ; 

Dismiss the fear that sickens, 
For lo I beside you see 

Him who your heart now quickens 
And comforts ; here is He. 

Why should you be detained 

In trouble day and night, 
As though He must be gained 

By arm of human might? 
He comes, He comes, all willing, 

All full of grace and love. 
Those woes and troubles stilling. 

Well known to Him above. 

Nor need ye tremble over 

The guilt that gives distress. 
No ! Jesus all will cover 

With grace and righteousness : 
He comes, He comes, procuring 

The peace of sin forgiven. 
To all God's sons securing 

Their part and lot in heaven. 

Why heed ye, then, the crying 
Of crafty foemen nigh? 

Your Lord shall send them flying 
In twinkling of an eye. 



LORD, HOW SHALL I BE MEETING? 23 



He comes, He comes, for ever 
A King ; and earth's fell band 

Shall prove in the endeavor 
Too feeble to withstand. 

He comes to judge the nations, 

Wroth if they wrathful prove, 
With sweet illuminations 

To those who seek and love. 
Come, come, O Sun eternal ! 

And all our souls convey 
To endless bliss supernal. 

In yonder court of day. 



24 THE ADVENT. 



PLUNGED IN A GULF OF DARK 
DESPAIR. 



IsA\c Watts, 1709. The fifth stanza is among the most familiar poetic descrip- 
tions of the Saviour's love. Roundell Palmer, in his Book of Praise, omits the fourth 
stanza. The hymn might as well be classed with the Passion hymns. 



P 



LUNGED in a gulf of dark despair, 
We wretched sinners lay, 
Without one cheerful beam of hope. 
Or spark of glimmering day. 



With pitying eyes, the Prince of Grace 

Beheld our helpless grief; 
He saw, and — oh, amazing love ! — 

He ran to our relief. 

Down from the shining seats above. 

With joyful haste He fled. 
Entered the grave in mortal flesh. 

And dwelt among the dead. 

He spoiled the powers of darkness thus, 

And brake our iron chains ; 
Jesus has freed our captive souls 

From everlasting pains. 



B 



MESSIAH, AT THY GLAD APPROACH. 25 

Oh ! for this love let rocks and hills 

Their lasting silence break, 
And all harmonious human tongues 

The Saviour's praises speak. 

Angels, assist our mighty joys ; 

Strike all your harps of gold ! 
But, when you raise your highest notes, 

His love can ne'er be told. 



MESSIAH, AT THY GLAD APPROACH. 



Michael Bruce, one of the most remarkable short-lived poets, bom 1746; edu- 
cated at the University of Edinburgh ; died, of consumption, in 1767, in his twenty-first 
\'ear. Some of his poems are erroneously ascribed to his friend John Logan. See 
Rogers's Lyr. Brit., 1867, p. 97. 



ly/TESSIAH, at Thy glad approach 

The howling winds are still ; 
Th}^ praises fill the lonely waste, 
And breathe from every hill. 

The hidden fountains at Thy call 
Their sacred stores unlock ; 

Loud in the desert, sudden streams 
Burst living from the rock. 



26 THE ADVENT. 

The incense of the spring ascends 
Upon the morning gale ; 

Red o'er the hill the roses bloom, 
The lilies in the vale. 

Renewed, the earth a robe of light, 
A robe of beauty, wears ; 

And in new heavens a brighter sun 
Leads on the promised years. 

The kingdom of Messiah come. 
Appointed times disclose ; 

And fairer in Emmanuel's land 
The new creation glows. 

Let Israel to the Prince of Peace 
The loud hosanna sing ! 

With hallelujahs and with hymns 
O Zion, hail thy King ! 



LO, HE COMES ! LET ALL ADORE HIM ! 27 



LO, HE COMES! LET ALL ADORE 
HIM ! 



Isa. xl. 3-5. Thomas Kelly, bom in Dublin, 1769; educated for the law: 
ordained 1792; left the Established Church; labored, for the London Missionary 
Society, with the brothers Haldane ; died 1S55. Author of 765 hymns, some of wliich 
eire among the best in the EngUsh language. 



T O, He comes ! let all adore Him ! 
-'-^ 'Tis the God of grace and truth ! 
Go ! prepare the way before Him, 

Make the nigged places smooth ! 
Lo, He comes, the mighty Lord! 
Great His work, and His reward. 

Let the valleys all be raised ; 

Go, and make the crooked straight; 
Let the mountains be abased ; 

Let all nature change its state ; 
Through the desert mark a road, 
Make a highway for our God. 

Through the desert God is going. 
Through the desert waste and wild, 

Where no goodly plant is growing. 
Where no verdure ever smiled ; 

But the desert shall be glad. 

And with verdure soon be clad. 



28 THE ADVENT. 

Where the thorn and brier flourished, 
Trees shall there be seen to grow, 

Planted by the Lord and nourished. 
Stately, fair, and fruitful too ; 

They shall rise on every side, 

They shall spread their branches wide. 

From the hills and lofty mountains 
Rivers shall be seen to flow ; 

There the Lord will open fountains. 
Thence supply the plains below ; 

As He passes, every land 

Shall confess His powerful hand. 



WATCHMAN! TELL US OF THE NIGHT. 



Sir John Bowring, LL.D., born at Exeter, 1792 ; a distinguished diplomatist and 
colonial governor in China, now living in retirement ; author of several important 
works of travel and on politics, and of a volume of excellent hymns published in 1825. 
This hymn is based on Isa. xxi. 11 : " Watchman, what of the night? " 



V\7ATCHMAN ! tell us of the night, 

^ ^ What its signs of promise are. 
Traveller ! o'er yon mountain's height, 
See that glory-beaming star. 

Watchman ! does its beauteous ray 
Aught of hope or joy foretell? 
Traveller ! yes ; it brings the day, 
Promised day of Israel. 




WATCHMAN ! TELL US OF THE NIGHT. 29 

Watchman ! tell us of the night ; 
Higher yet that star ascends. 
Traveller ! blessedness and light, 
Peace and truth, its course portends. 

Watchman ! will its beams alone 
Gild the spot that gave them birth ? 
Traveller ! ages are its own ; 
See, it bursts o'er all the earth ! 

Watchman ! tell us of the night, 
For the morning seems to dawn. 
Traveller ! darkness takes its flight ; 
Doubt and terror are withdrawn. 

Watchman ! let thy wanderings cease ; 
Hie thee to thy quiet home : 
Traveller ! lo, the Prince of Peace, 
Lo, the Son of God, is come ! 



30 THE ADVENT. 



WHEN JESUS CAME TO EARTH OF OLD. 



Mrs. Cecil Frances Alexander, a highly accomplished authoress, daughter of 
Major Humphreys of Ireland ; married, in 1850, to the Very Rev. William Alexander, 
Dean of Emly. Her Hymns for Little Children have an immense circulation in 
England (two hundred and fifty thousand copies were disposed of before 1867). She 
has published several volumes of poems, and contributed to the Lyra A nglica?ia, 
and various magazines. 



TT 7HEN Jesus came to earth of old, 

^ ^ He came in weakness and in woe ; 
He wore no form of angel mould, 
But took our nature, poor and low. 

But, when He cometh back once more. 
There shall be set the great white throne. 
And earth and heaven shall flee before 
The face of Him that sits thereon. 



O Son of God, in glory crowned. 
The Judge ordained of quick and dead ! 
O Son of Man, so pitying found 
For all the tears Thy people shed ! 

Be with us in this darkened place,- — 
This weary, restless, dangerous night; 
And teach, oh teach us, by Thy grace, 
To struggle onward into light ! 



fl 



ZION, AT THY SHINING GATES. 

And since, in God's recording book, 
Our sins are written, every one, — 
The crime, the wrath, the wandering look, 
The good we knew, and left undone. 

Lord, ere the last dread trump be heard, 
And ere before Thy face we stand. 
Look Thou on each accusing word. 
And blot it with Thy bleeding hand. 

And by the love that brought Thee here, 
And by the cross, and by the grave. 
Give perfect love for conscious fear. 
And in the day of judgment save. 

And lead us on while here we stray. 
And make us love our heavenly home. 
Till from our hearts we love to say, 
"Even so. Lord Jesus, quickly come." 



31 



ZION, AT THY SHINING GATES. 



Benjamin Hall Kennedy, D.D , bom near Birmingham, 1804; educated at 
Cambridge ; since 1865, Rector of West Felton, England. 



^lON, at thy shining gates, 
^^ Lo, the King of glory waits ! 
Haste thy Monarch's pomp to greet, 
Strew thy palms before His feet. 



32 THE ADVENT. 

Christ, for Thee their triple light 
Faith and Hope and Love unite ; 
This the beacon we display, 
To proclaim Thine Advent day. 

Come, and give us peace within ; 
Loose us from the bands of sin ; 
Take away the galling weight 
Laid on us by Satan's hate. 

Give us grace Thy yoke to wear ; 
Give us strength Thy cross to bear ; 
Make us Thine in deed and word, 
Thine in heart and life, O Lord ! 

Kill in us the carnal root. 
That the Spirit may bear fruit ; 
Plant in us Thy lowly mind ; 
Keep us faithful, loving, kind. 

So, when Thou shalt come again, 
Judge of angels and of men. 
We, with all Thy saints, shall sing 
Hallelujahs to our King. 



HE COMES, NO ROYAL VESTURE WEARING. 33 



HE COMES, NO ROYAL VESTURE 
WEARING. 

{Dein Kotiig kommt 171 iiiedern Hiillen.) 



By Friedrich Ruckert, one of the greatest German poets of the 19th century, 
died 1867. A lyric of high order, first published 1824; admirably translated, for this 
Collection, by Professor Thomas C Porter, of Lafayette College, Easton, Pa., April 5, 
1868. (The original in Schaff's G. Hymn Book, No. 81.) Based upon Matt. xxi. 
1-1 1, which is the Gospel lesson for the first Sunday in Advent (and also a proper 
lesson for Palm Sunday). 



T TE comes, no royal vesture wearing, 

-■- "^ An humble beast the Monarch bearing ; 

Receive thy King, Jerusalem ! 
Go forth with palms, His triumph showing. 
With branches green the pathway strewing, 

And shout hosannas to His name. 



O Sovereign, by no host attended ! 
Strong Champion, by no spear defended ! 

O Prince of Peace, and David's Son ! — 
Thy throne, from whose approach for ever 
The kings of earth Thy step would sever. 

Is by Thee, without battle, won. 

Unto the empire Thou hast founded. 
Though not of earth, nor by earth bounded, 
All earthly realms shall subject be : 
3 



34 THE ADVENT. 

Forth into every land and nation, 
Thy servants, armed with Thy salvation, 
March to prepare a way for Thee. 

And at Thy coming, clothed with power, 
The sullen storm forgets to lower, 

And waves grow calm beneath Thy tread ; 
The bonds, by man's rebellion blighted. 
In a new covenant are united. 

And sin and death in fetters led. 

O Lord of grace and truth unending. 

And love all reach of thought transcending, 

Revisit us, so sorely tried ! 
Thine Advent once again is needed. 
To form anew Thy peace, unheeded 

By worldly haughtiness and pride. 

Oh, let Thy light, which ne'er shall vanish. 
From earth the power of darkness banish ! 

The lurid flames of discord quell ; 
That we, the thrones and people loyal, 
As brethren 'neath Thy sceptre royal. 

In Thy great Father's house ma}^ dwell. 



THE CHURCH HAS WAITED LONG. 35 



THE CHURCH HAS WAITED LONG. 



By HoRATius BoNARj D.D., of Kelso. Rev. xxii. 20. From his Hymns 0/ 
Faith and Hope, First Series, 1856, under the title "Advent." 



^ I ^HE Church has waited long, 
"^ Her absent Lord to see ; 
And still in loneliness she waits, 

A friendless stranger she. 

Age after age has gone, 

Sun after sun has set, 
And still, in weeds of widowhood. 

She weeps, a mourner yet. 

Come, then. Lord Jesus, come! 

Saint after saint on earth 

Has lived and loved and died ; 
And, as they left us one by one. 

We laid them side by side. 

We laid them down to sleep. 

But not in hope forlorn ; 
We laid them but to ripen there, 

Till the last glorious morn. 

Come, then. Lord Jesus, come ! 

The serpent's brood increase, 
The powers of hell grow bold, 



36 THE ADVENT. 

The conflict thickens, faith is low, 

And love is waxing cold. 

How long, O Lord our God ! 

Holy and true and good. 
Wilt Thou not judge thy suflering Church, 

Her sighs and tears and blood? 

Come, then. Lord Jesus, come! 

We long to hear Thy voice. 

To see Thee face to face. 
To share Thy crown and glory then, 

As now we share Thy grace. 

Should not the loving bride 

Her absent bridegroom mourn? 
Should she not wear the signs of grief 

Until her Lord return? 

Come, then. Lord Jesus, come ! 

The whole creation groans, 

And waits to hear that voice. 
That shall restore her comeliness. 

And make her wastes rejoice. 

Come, Lord, and wipe away 

The curse, the sin, the stain. 
And make this blighted world of ours 

Thine own fair world again. 

Come, then. Lord Jesus, come ! 




THE INCARNATION. 



" Unto us a Child is bom, unto us a Son is given : and the government shall be 
upon his shoulder ; and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty 
God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace" — IsA. ix. 6. 

"And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us (and we beheld his glory, 
the glory as of the only begotten of the Father), full of grace and truth." — John i. 14. 



/^ THOU only-begotten Son of God, Light of Light, God 
of God, very God of very God, who, in the fulness of 
time, wast made flesh, and didst take upon Thyself all our sins 
and infirmities, that we might have salvation from sin, and eter- 
nal life, in Thee : — we bless Thee for Thy holy incarnation ; and 
with the multitude of angels who proclaimed Thy birth, and with 
Thy people among all nations, we unite in singing, Glory to 
God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will toward men ! 
Amen. 



" Welcome to our wondering sight. 
Eternity shut in a span ! 
Summer in winter ! day in night I 

Heaven in earth ! and God in man ! 
Great Little One, whose glorious birth 
Lifts earth to heaven, stoops heaven to earth." 

Richard Crashaw, 1646. 



THE INCARNATION. 



A GREAT AND MIGHTY WONDER. 

[Meya kol napddo^ov ■&avfj,a.) 



From the Greek of Anatolius (Patriarch of Constantinople, and member of the 
Ecumenical Council of Chalcedon, a.d. 451), by Dr. J. Mason Neale {Hymns of 
the Eastern Church, Lond. 1862). 



A GREAT and mighty wonder 
-^-^ The festal makes secure : 
The Virgin bears the Infant 
With virgin-honor pure. 

The Word is made incarnate, 
And yet remains on high ; 

And cherubim sing anthems 
To shepherds from the sky. 

And we with them triumphant, 
Repeat the hymn again : 

*^To God on high be glory, 
And peace on earth to men ! " 



40 THE INCARNATION. 

While thus they praise your Monarch, 
Those bright angeHc bands, 

Rejoice, ye vales and mountains ! 
Ye oceans, clap your hands ! 

Since all He came to ransom, 

By all be He adored. 
The Infant born in Bethlehem, 

The Saviour and the Lord ! 

And idol forms shall perish. 

And error shall decay ; 
And Christ shall wield His sceptre. 

Our Lord and God for aye. 



FROM WHERE THE RISING SUN GOES 
FORTH. 

(A sob's orius cardine.^ 



St. Ambrose of Milan, 397. The original, as given by Daniel {Tkes. Hymnol., 
I. p. 21), has fifty-six lines, but only a part of it (vers. 4, 5, 6) has passed into ecclesias- 
tical use. The beginning is borrowed from Ps. cxii. 3 : " A solis ortu usque ad occa- 
sum laudabile nomen." 



L^ROM v^here the rising sun goes forth 
-^ .To where he spans the utmost earth 
Proclaim we Christ our King, this morn 
Of Mary Virgin-mother born : 



FROM WHERE THE RISING SUN GOES FORTH. 4I 

All climes unite in common voice ; 
Judea, Rome, and Greece rejoice; 
Thrace, Egypt, Persia, Scythia, now 
To one sole King's dominion bow. 

All, all, confess your Lord and King; 
Redeemed and lost. His praises sing ; 
Health, sickness, life, and death adore ; 
All live in Him, they die no more. 

His beauteous portal, full of grace, 
Is hallowed for the King to pass ; 
The King doth pass : the folded door 
Abideth folded as before.^ 

Son of the Father's Might Divine, 
Proceeding from His Virgin-shrine, 
Maker, Redeemer, Bridegroom, He 
The Giant of His Church shall be. 2 



1 An allusion to the porta clausa, Ezek. xliv. 1-3, which was 
understood of the womb of the Virgin. This is one of the earliest 
testimonies of the belief in the perpetual virginity of Marj, which 
subsequently became a dogma of the Greek and Roman-Catholic 
Churches, and is held also by many Protestant divines, although 
it cannot be proved from the New Testament. 

2 SucB gigas ecclesice refers to the double nature of Christ, in 
allusion to the mystical interpretation of the giants, Gen. vi. 4. 
Comp. gemincB gigas stibstantics, in Ambrose's " Veni Redemptor 
gentium," line 15 (see p. 10). 



c 



c 



D 



o 



42 THE INCARNATION. 

Of Mother-maid the light and joy, 
Of all believers hope most high, 
He the dark cup of death shall drain 
Ere He unloose our guilty chain. 

Fair Stone, cut out from mountain-height. 
Filling the world with grace and light. 
Whom, by no hand of mortal hewn, 
The ancient sages had foreshown : ^ 

'Tis done, what herald-angel said. 
He, the True Word, true flesh is made, 
A Virgin-birth of Virgin-womb, 
Virgin of virgins, Christ is come. 

The skies have shed the dew from heaven, 
The outpouring clouds the Just One given. 
Earth's open lap receives the birth, 
And brings the Lord the Saviour forth. 

Oh ! 'twas a wondrous travail there 
When Him, the Christ, the Virgin bare, 
So bare the birth, the Offspring pure. 
As Ever-virgin to endure. 

Creator He of all the race. 

For whom creation hath no place. 

Hath found, chaste Mother, where to dwell, 

Hath shrined Him in thy sacred cell : 

1 Dan. ii. 34; Isa. xxviii. 16; Eph. ii. 20; i Cor. iii. 11; 
I Pet. ii. 4, 6, 7. 



OF THE father's LOVE BEGOTTEN. 

Whom Sire most High, when time was not, 
God Very God of God begot, 
The bosom chaste of Mother mild 
In time doth bear a new-born Child. 



43 



OF THE FATHER'S LOVE BEGOTTEN, 

(^Corde natus ex Parentis.^ 



From the Latin of Clemens Aurelius Prudentius, of Spain, died 405. Da- 
niel, Thesaurus, I. 122; Wackernagel, I. 36; an English version in The Hymnal 
Noted, No. 32; Hymns Ancient and Modern, No. 46. 



/^F the Father's love begotten, 
^^ Ere the worlds began to be, 
He is Alpha and Omega, 

He the source, the ending He, 
Of the things that are, that have been, 

And that future years shall see, 
Evermore and evermore ! 

He is here, whom seers in old time 
Chanted of, while ages ran ; 

Whom the voices of the Prophets 
Promised since the world began : 

Then foretold, now manifested. 
To receive the praise of man. 
Evermore and evermore ! 



44 THE INCARNATION. 

Oh that ever-blessed birthday, 
When the Virgin, full of grace, 

Of the Holy Ghost incarnate 
Bare the Saviour of our race ; 

And that Child, the world's Redeemer, 
First displayed His Sacred Face, 
Evermore and evermore ! 

Praise Him, O ye heavens of heavens ! 

Praise Him, angels in the height ! 
Every power and every virtue 

Sing the praise of God aright ! 
Let no tongue of man be silent. 

Let each heart and voice unite. 
Evermore and evermore ! 

Thee let age, and Thee let manhood, 
Thee let choirs of infants sing ; 

Thee the matrons and the virgins. 
And the children answering : 

Let their modest song re-echo, 
And their heart its praises bring. 
Evermore and evermore ! 

Laud and honor to the Father ! 

Laud and honor to the Son ! 
Laud and honor to the Spirit ! 

Ever Three and ever One : 



FROM LANDS THAT SEE THE SUN ARISE. 

Consubstantial, co-eternal, 
While unending ages run, 
Evermore and evermore ! 



45 



FROM LANDS THAT SEE THE SUN. 

{A solis ortus cardtne.) 



From the Latin of Coelius Sedulius, a native of Scotland or Ireland, and pres- 
byter in the fifth century. This hymn is found in all the Breviaries. The first stanza 
is literally borrowed from a Nativity hymn of St. Ambrose (p. 40). See the Latin in 
Daniel, Thesaurus, I. p. 143. 



L^ROM lands that see the sun arise, 
■^ To earth's remotest boundaries, 
The Virgin-born to-day we sing. 
The Son of Mary, Christ the King. 

Blest Author of this earthly frame. 
To take a servant's form He came. 
That, liberating flesh by flesh, 
Whom He had made might live afresh. 



In that chaste parent's holy womb 
Celestial grace hath found its home : 
And she, as earthly bride unknown. 
Yet calls that Offspring blest her own. 



46 THE INCARNATION. 

The mansion of the modest breast 
Becomes a shrine where God shall rest : 
The pure and undefiled one 
Conceived in her womb the Son. 

That Son, that Royal Son, she bore, 
Whom Gabriel's voice had told afore : 
Whom, in His Mother yet concealed, 
The Infant Baptist had revealed. 

The manger and the straw He bore, 

The cradle did He not abhor : 

By milk in infant portions fed, 

Who gives e'en fowls their daily bread. 

The heavenly chorus filled the sky. 
The angels sang to God on high. 
What time to shepherds, watching lone. 
They made Creation's Shepherd known. 

For that Thine Advent glory be, 
O Jesu, Virgin-born, to Thee ! 
With Father, and with Holy Ghost, 
From men and from the heavenly host. 



c: 



TO-DAY IN BETHLEHEM HEAR I. 47 



TO-DAY IN BETHLEHEM HEAR I. 

(Ao^a Ev vrpiarocg QeC).) 



From the Greek of John of Damascus, died 754. 



nnO-DAY in Bethlehem hear I 
"^ Sweet angel voices singing : 
All glory be to God on high, 

Who peace to earth is bringing. 
The Virgin Mary holdeth more 

Than highest heaven most holy : 
Light shines on what was dark before, 

And lifteth up the lowly. 

God wills that peace should be in earth. 

And holy exultation : 
Sweet Babe, I greet Thy spotless birth 

And wondrous Incarnation. 
To-day in Bethlehem hear I 

Even the lowly singing : 
With angel-words they pierce the sky ; 

All earth with joy is ringing. 



48 THE INCARNATION, 



ALL HAIL, THOU NIGHT, THAN DAY 
MORE BRIGHT! 

(O nox vel medio sflendidior die^ 



From the Amiens Breviary, translated by W. J. Blew, Church Hymn and Tune 
Book, LonA 1855. 



A LL hail, thou night, than day more bright, 
"^ -^ Through whose mysterious shade, 
In wondrous birth, arose on earth. 

From bosom of pure Maid, 
The Sun new-born, a Star of morn, 

Filling the world with light ! 

He who alone, from heaven's high throne, 

Rules all, and doth restore 
To God's embrace man's fallen race, 

Lies on a cottage floor. 
Like Him that we, save poverty, 

Have nought to call our own. 

While o'er their sheep close watch they keep, 

Those shepherds first receive 
The heavenly call, that doth to all 

Great joy and gladness give, — 
The call from heaven, to watchmen given 

That wake and never sleep. 



COME HITHER, YE FAITHFUL. 49 



COME HITHER, YE FAITHFUL. 

{Adeste fideles.^ 



From a Latin hymn of uncertain date. Another translation in the Hymnal Noted: 
Be present, ye faithful, joyful and triumphant." 



/^OME hither, ye faithful ; 
^^ Triumphantly sing ; 
Come, see in the manger 

Our Saviour and King ! 
To Bethlehem hasten. 

With joyful accord ! 
Oh, come ye, come hither, 

To worship the Lord ! 

True Son of the Father, 
He comes from the skies ; 

To be born of a Virgin 
He doth not despise. 

To Bethlehem hasten, &c. 

Hark, hark to the angels ! 

All singing in heaven : 
"To God in the highest 

All glory be given ! " 
To Bethlehem hasten, &c. 
4 



so THE INCARNATION. 

To Thee, then, O Jesus ! 

This day of Thy birth, 
Be glory and honor 

Through heaven and earth ! 
True Godhead Incarnate ! 

Omnipotent Word ! 
Oh, come, let us hasten 

To worship the Lord ! 



A CHILD IS BORN IN BETHLEHEM. 

(Puer natus in Bethlehem.') 



A joyous Christmas hymn of the 14th century, which continued in use, in the 
Lutheran churches of Germany, weHnigh to this day. EngUsh versions by R. F. Lit- 
TLEDALE, Mrs. Charles, and others. The Latin in Daniel, I. 334; Trench, p. 97: 
and Wackernagel {Das Deutsche Kirchenlied, vol. i. p. 198-200), who gives ten 
forms of this hymn. 



A CHILD is born in Bethlehem ; 
Rejoice and sing, Jerusalem. 
Within a manger He doth lie. 
Whose throne is set above the sky. 
Hallelujah ! hallelujah ! 

The wise men came, led by the star ; 
Gold, myrrh, and incense brought from far. 



A CHILD IS BORN IN BETHLEHEM. 5 1 

The OX and ass beheld that sight ; 
The creature knew the Lord of might.^ 
Hallelujah ! hallelujah ! 

His mother is the Virgin mild, 
And He the Father's only child. 
The serpent's wound He beareth not, 
Yet takes our blood, and shares our lot. 
Hallelujah ! hallelujah ! 

Our human flesh He enters in, 
But free from every stain of sin. 
To fallen man himself He bowed, 
That He might lift us up to God. 
Hallelujah ! hallelujah ! 

On this most blessed jubilee. 
All glory be, O God ! to Thee. 
O Holy Three, we Thee adore. 
This day, henceforth, for evermore. 
Hallelujah ! hallelujah ! 



1 " Cognovit bos et asinus 
Quod puer erat Dominus." 

The mediaeval legend of the ox and ass recognizing and wor- 
shipping the Lord whom the Jews ignored and rejected, figures 
prominently in Catholic pictures of the holy family, and rests 
upon a fanciful interpretation of Isa. i. 3 ("Cognovit bos pos- 
sessorem suum, et asinus praesepe domini sui"), and Hab. iii. 2 
("In medio duorum animalium innotesceris"), which was under- 
stood as a prophetic allusion to the manger of Bethlehem. 



52 THE INCARNATION. 

THERE COMES A GALLEY LADEN. 

(^5 kommt ehi Schiff geladen.') 




From the German of John Tauler, a celebrated mystic divine ard revival 
preacher, died 1361. See the original in Wackernagel's Deutsches Kirche7tlied von 
der altesten Zeit, &c., Leipzig, 1867, vol. ii. pp. 302, 303 (three forms). Another trans- 
lation, by C. W. Shields (" There comes a bark full laden"), in Sacred Lyrics from 
the German, Phila., p. 109. 



T^HERE comes a galley laden, 

-^ A heavenly freight on board ; 
It bears God's Son, the Saviour^ 
The great Undying Word. 

And proudly floats that galley, 
From troubled coast to coast : 

Its sail is love and mercy ; 
Its mast, the Holy Ghost. 

Now earth hath caught the anchor, 
The ship hath touched the strand 

God's Word, in fleshly garment, — 
The Son, — steps out on land. 

Thou Bethlehem the lowly 
Receiv'st Him in thy stall ; 

Thou giv'st Him rest and shelter, 
Who comes to save us all. 



ALL PRAISE TO THEE, ETERNAL LORD I 53 

Oh ! haste, my brothers, quickl}^ 

To kiss this Httle Child, 
Who dies a glorious Martyr 

For souls with sin defiled. 

And he who dies with Jesus, 

With Jesus he shall rise, 
And love eternal waft him 

With Christ beyond the skies. 



ALL PRAISE TO THEE, ETERNAL 
LORD! 

(^Grates nunc omnes reddamus.^ 



On the basis of Luther's hymn, Gelohet seist Du, Jesu Christy 1523, which is 
itself freely reproduced and enlarged from the short sequence De Nativitate Do- 
mini, by NoTKER of St. Gall in the ninth centurj'. (Comp. Wackernagel's Kitch- 
enlied, I. 69, who attributes the sequence to Gregorj' the Great, died 604 ; Daniel's 
Thes., II. 5 ; Koch's Geschichte des Kirchenlieds, IV. 134; Schaff's DeutscJies 
Gesanghuch, No. 83 ; and Andover Sabbath H. B., No. 263.) 



A LL praise to Thee, eternal Lord I 
-^-^ Clothed in a garb of flesh and blood ; 
Choosing a manger for Thy throne. 
While worlds on worlds are Thine alone. 

Once did the skies before Thee bow : 
A Virgin's arms contain Thee now ; 
Angels, who did in Thee rejoice, 
Now listen for Thine infant voice. 



54 THE INCARNATION. 

A little child, Thou art our guest, 
That weary ones in Thee may rest ; 
Forlorn and lowly is Thy birth, 
That we may rise to heaven from earth. 

Thou comest in the darksome night 
To make us children of the light, — 
To make us, in the realms divine, 
Like Thine own angels round Thee shine. 

All this for us Thy love hath done ; 
By this to Thee our love is won : 
For this we tune our cheerful lays, 
And shout our thanks in ceaseless praise. 



GOOD NEWS FROM HEAVEN THE 
ANGELS BRING. 

( Vbm Himmel hoch da komm ich her.') 



From Luther's childlike Christmas carol, written for his children, 1535, and 
abridged 1543 (Vom Himmel kam der Ettg-el Schaar). There are several English 
translations, one by two little blind girls (commencing, " From highest heaven I just 
came," and pubHshed in the Lutheran atid Missionary, Philad.), and another by 
Miss C. WiNKWORTH (" From heaven above to earth I come," Lyra Germ., First 
Series). 

/^^ OOD news from heaven the angels bring, 
^^ Glad tidings to the earth they sing : 
To us this day a child is given, 
To crown us with the joy of heaven. 



tJ 



GOOD NEWS FROM HEAVEN THE ANGELS BRING. 55 

This is the Christ, our God and Lord, 
Who in all need shall aid afford : 
He will Himself our Saviour be, 
From sin and sorrow set us free. 

To us that blessedness He brings. 
Which from the Father's bounty springs : 
That in the heavenly realm we may 
With Him enjoy eternal day. 

All hail, Thou noble Guest, this morn, 
Whose love did not the sinner scorn ! 
In my distress Thou cam'st to me : 
What thanks shall I return to Thee? 

Were earth a thousand times as fair, 
Beset with gold and jewels rare, 
She yet were far too poor to be 
A narrow cradle^ Lord, for Thee. 

Ah, dearest Jesus, Holy Child ! 
Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled, 
Within my heart, that it may be 
A quiet chamber kept for Thee. 



Praise God upon His heavenly throne, 
Who gave to us His only Son : 
For this His hosts, on joyful wing, 
A blest New Year of mercy sing. 



56 THE INCARNATION. 



WE SING TO THEE, IMMANUEL. 

( IVt'r singen Dtr, ImmanuelS) 



From the German of Paul Gerhardt, 1656, by F. E. Cox (Hymns from the 
German, Lond. 1865). Another version in Lyra Gertnanica, I. p. 28: "Thee, O 
Immanuel ! we praise, the Prince of Life, and Fomit of Grace." The hymn has twenty 
stanzas, but is much abridged in German hymn-books (Schaff's G. H. B., No. 86). 



l^T 7E sing to Thee, Immanuel, 

^ ' The Prince of Hfe, salvation's Well, 
The Plant of Heaven, the Star of morn. 
The Lord of Lords, the Virgin-born. 

All glory, worship, thanks, and praise. 
That Thou art come in these our days 1 
Thou Heavenly Guest expected long, 
We hail Thee with a joyful song. 

For Thee, since first the world was made. 
Men's hearts have waited, watched, and prayed ; 
Prophets and patriarchs, year by year, 
Have longed to see Thy light appear. 

O God ! — they prayed — from Sion rise, 
And hear Thy captive people's cries ; 
At length, O Lord ! salvation bring : 
Then Jacob shall rejoice and sing. 



WE SING TO THEE, IMMANUEL. 

Now Thou, by whom the world was made, 
Art in Thy manger-cradle laid ; 
Maker of all things great, art small, 
Naked Thyself, though clothing all. 

Thou, who both heaven and earth dost sway, 
In strangers' inn art fain to stay ; 
And though Thy power makes angels blest. 
Dost seek Thy food from human breast. 

Encouraged thus, our love grows bold 
On Thee to lay our steadfast hold ; 
The Cross which Thou didst undergo 
Has vanquished death and healed our woe. 

Thou art our Head : then. Lord, of Thee, 
True, living members we will be ; 
And, in the strength Thy grace shall give. 
Will live as Thou wouldst have us live. 



57 



As each short year goes quickly round. 
Our Halleluiahs shall resound ; 
And, when we reckon years no more, 
May we in heaven Thy Name adore ! 



58 THE INCARNATION. 



ALL MY HEART THIS NIGHT 
REJOICES. 

{Frohlich soil inein Herze s-pringen.^ 



Paul Gerhardt, 1656. Translated by C. Winkworth. The original has fif- 
teen stanzas, but is abridged in most German hymn-books. 



A LL my heart this night rejoices, 
-^"^ As I hear, 

Far and near, 
Sweetest angel voices : 
"Christ is born," their choirs are singing, 
Till the air 
Everywhere 
Now with joy is ringing. 

Hark ! a voice from yonder manger. 
Soft and sweet, 
Doth entreat : 
" Flee from woe and danger ; 
Brethren, come : from all that grieves you 
You are freed ; 
All you need 
I will surely give you." 



ALL MY HEART THIS NIGHT REJOICES. 59 

Come, then, let us hasten yonder; 
Here let all. 
Great and small, 
Kneel in awe and wonder ; 
Love Him who with love is yearning ; 
Hail the Star 
That from far 
Bright with hope is burning ! 

Ye who pine in weary sadness. 
Weep no more, 
For the door 
Now is found of gladness. 
Cling to Him, for He will guide you 
Where no cross, 
Pain or loss. 
Can again betide you. 

Hither come, ye heavy-hearted, 
Who for sin. 
Deep within. 
Long and sore have smarted : 
For the poisoned wounds you're feeling 
Help is near ; 
One is here 
Mighty for their healing. 

Hither come, ye poor and wretched ; 
Know His will 
Is to fill 



6o THE INCARNATION. 

Every hand outstretched ; 
Here are riches without measure, 

Here forget 

All regret, 
Fill your hearts with treasure. 

Blessed Saviour, let me find Thee ! 
Keep Thou me 
Close to Thee, 
Cast me not behind Thee ! 
Life of life, my heart Thou stillest, 
Calm I rest 
On Thy breast, 
All this void Thou fillest. 

Heedfully my Lord I'll cherish. 
Live to Thee, 
And with Thee 
Dying shall not perish ; 
But shall dwell with Thee for ever. 
Far on high, 
In the joy 
That can alter never. 



WHILE TO BETHLEHEM. 6l 

WHILE TO BETHLEHEM. 



ViOLANTE DO Ceo, a Celebrated Portuguese poetess, called "the Tenth Muse of 
Portugal;" b., at Lisbon, 1601 ; d., in a cloister, 1693. Translated by J. Adamson, 
Lusitania Illustrata, 1842. 

TT /"HILE to Bethlehem we are going, 

^ ^ Tell me now, to cheer the road, 
Tell me why this lovely Infant 

Quitted His divine abode. 

" From that world to bring to this 
Peace, which, of all earthly blisses. 

Is the brightest, purest bliss." 

Wherefore from His throne exalted 

Came He on this earth to dwell ; 
All His pomp an humble manger, 

All His court a narrow cell? 

" From that world to bring to this 
Peace, which, of all earthly blisses, 

Is the brightest, purest bliss." 

Why did He, the Lord Eternal, 

Mortal pilgrim deign to be ; 
He who fashioned for His glory. 

Boundless immortality? 

" From that world to bring to this 
Peace, which, of all earthly blisses. 

Is the brightest, purest bliss." 

Well, then, let us haste to Bethlehem ; 

Thither let us haste and rest ; 
For, of all Heaven's gifts, the sweetest. 

Sure, is peace, — the sweetest, best. 



62 THE INCARNATION. 



THIS IS THE MONTH, AND THIS THE 
HAPPY MORN. 



" On the Morning of Christ's Nativity." By John Milton, bora 1608, died 1674. 
The magnificent Nativity hymn of the immortal singer of Paradise Lost, which fol- 
lows this, is too long, and not sufficiently lyrical, for our Collection. 



^ I ^HIS is the month, and this the happy morn, 
-■- Wherein the Son of heaven's eternal King, 
Of wedded Maid and Virgin Mother born, 
Our great redemption from above did bring ; 
For so the holy sages once did sing. 
That He our deadly forfeit should release. 
And with His Father work us a perpetual peace. 

That glorious form, that light unsufFerable, 
And that far-beaming blaze of majesty, 
Wherewith He wont at heaven's high council- 
table 
To sit the midst of Trinal Unity, 
He laid aside ; and, here with us to be, 
Forsook the courts of everlasting day, 
And chose with us a darksome house of mortal 
clay. 

Say, heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein 
Afford a present to the Infant God ? 
Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain, 
To welcome Him to this His new abode. 



THOU FAIREST CHILD DIVINE. 6;^ 

Now while the heaven by the sun's team untrod, 
Hath took no print of the approaching Hght, 
And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons 
bright ? 

See how from far upon the eastern road 
The star-led wizards ^ haste with odors sweet : 
Oh run, prevent them with thy humble ode, 
And lay it lowly at His blessed feet ; 
Have thou the honor first thy Lord to greet, 
And join thy voice unto the angel choir, 
From out His secret altar touched with hallowed 
fire. 



THOU FAIREST CHILD DIVINE. 

(Du sckonstes Goites-Kijid.) 



Gerhard Tersteegen, 1731. Translated by C. Winkworth {Lyra Gertnam'ca, 
Second Series). 



n^HOU fairest Child Divine 
■^ In yonder manger laid. 
In whom is God Himself well pleased. 
By whom were all things made. 



64 THE INCARNATION. 

On me art Thou bestowed ; 

How can such wonders be ! 

The dearest that the Father hath 

He ffives me here in Thee ! 

I was a foe to God, 

I fought in Satan's host, 
I trifled all His grace away, 

Alas ! my soul was lost. 

Yet God forgets my sin ; 

His heart, with pity moved, 
He gives me, Heavenly Child, in Thee ; 

Lo ! thus our God hath loved I 

Once blind with sin and self. 

Along the treacherous way, 
That ends in ruin at the last, 

I hastened far astray ; 

Then God sent down His Son ; 

For with a love most deep, 
Most undeserved, His heart still yearned 

O'er me, poor wandering sheep ! 

God with His life of love 
To me was far and strange. 

My heart clung only to the world 
Of sight and sense and change ; 
In Thee, Immanuel, 
Are God and man made one ; 

In Thee my heart hath peace with God, 
And union in the Son. 






JOY TO THE WORLD ! THE LORD IS COME. 6j 

Oh ponder this, my soul : 
Our God hath loved us thus, 

That even His only dearest Son 
He freely giveth us. 
Thou precious gift of God, 
The pledge and bond of love, 

With thankful heart I kneel to take 
This treasure from above. 

I kneel beside Thy couch, 

I press Thee to my heart. 
For Thee I gladly all forsake 

And from the creature part : 

Oh deign to take my heart. 

And let Thy heart be mine. 
That all my love flow out to Thee 

And lose itself in Thine. 



JOY TO THE WORLD! THE LORD IS 
COME. 



Isaac Watts, 1709. Ps. xcviii. 



TOY to the world ! the. Lord is come 
^ Let earth receive her King ; 
Let every heart prepare Him room, 
And heaven and nature sing. 

5 



66 THE INCARNATION. 

Joy to the world ! the Saviour reigns : 

Let men their songs employ ; 
While fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, 

Repeat the sounding joy. 

No more let sin and sorrow grow. 

Nor thorns infest the ground : 
He comes to make His blessings flow 

Far as the curse is found. 

He rules the world with truth and grace, 

And makes the nations prove 
The glories of His righteousness. 

And wonders of His love. 



HARK, HOW ALL THE WELKIN 
RINGS ! 



Charles Wesley. From his Hymns and Sacred Poems, 



TTARK, how all the welkin rings ! 

Glory to the King of kings ! 
Peace on earth and mercy mild, 
God and sinners reconciled ! 
Joyful, all 3^e nations, rise. 
Join the triumph of the skies ; 
Universal nature say, 
Christ the Lord is born to-day ! 



HARK, HOW ALL THE WELKIN RINGS 1 67 

Christ, by highest Heaven adored ; 
Christ, the Everlasting Lord ; 
Late in time behold Him come, 
Offspring of a Virgin's womb : 
Veiled in flesh the Godhead see ; 
Hail the Incarnate Deity, 
Pleased as man with men to appear, 
Jesus, om* Immanuel here ! 

Hail, the heavenl}^ Prince of Peace ! 
Hail, the Son of Righteousness ! 
Light and life to all He brings. 
Risen with healing in His wings. 
Mild He lays His glory by, 
Born that man no more may die, 
Born to raise the sons of earth. 
Born to give them second birth. 

Come, Desire of nations, come, 

Fix in us Thy humble home ! 

Rise, the Woman's conquering Seed, 

Bruise in us the Serpent's head ! 

Now display Thy saving power, . 

Ruined nature now restore ; 

Now in mystic union join 

Thine to ours, and ours to Thine ! 

Adam's likeness. Lord, efface; 
Stamp Thine image in its place ; 
Second Adam from above, 
Reinstate us in Thy love ! 



68 THE INCARNATION. 

Let us Thee, though lost, regain. 
Thee, the Life, the Heavenly Man 
Oh, to all Thyself impart. 
Formed in each believing heart ! 



HARK, THE GLAD SOUND ! 



Philip Doddridge, D.D., died 1751 



TTARK, the glad sound ! the Saviour comes, 

■ The Saviour promised long ! 
Let every heart prepare a throne, 
And every voice a song I 

On Him the Spirit, largely poured. 

Exerts its sacred fire ; 
Wisdom and might, and zeal and love, 

His hol}^ breast inspire. 

He comes, the prisoners to release, 

In Satan's bondage held ; 
The gates of brass before Him burst. 

The iron fetters yield. 

He comes, from thickest films of vice 

To clear the mental ray. 
And on the eyeballs of the blind 

To pour celestial day. 



OH, HOW WONDROUS IS THE STORY ! 69 

He comes, the broken heart to bindj 

The bleeding soul to cure. 
And with the treasure of His grace 

Enrich the humble poor. 

His silver trumpets publish loud 

The jubilee of the Lord ; 
Our debts are all remitted now, 

Our heritage restored. 

Our glad hosannas, Prince of Peace, 

Thy welcome shall proclaim. 
And heaven's eternal arches ring 

With Thy beloved name. 



OH, HOW WONDROUS IS THE STORY! 



Hannah More, bom 1744, died 1833. 



/^H, how wondrous is the story 
^^ Of our blest Redeemer's birth ! 
See, the mighty Lord of glory 
Leaves His heaven to visit earth. 

Hear with transport, every creature, ■ 
Hear the gospel's joyful sound : 

Christ appears in human nature, — 
In our sinful world is found. 



(z: 



^O THE INCARNATION. 

Comes to pardon our transgression, 
Like a cloud our sins to blot ; 

Comes to His own favored nation, 
But His own receive Him not. 

If the angels who attended 
To declare the Saviour's birth, 

Who from heaven with songs descended 
To proclaim good- will on earth, — 

If, in pity to our blindness. 

They had brought the pardon needed, 
Still Jehovah's wondrous kindness 

Had our warmest hopes exceeded. 

If some prophet had been sent 
With salvation's joyful news. 

Who that heard the blest event 
Could their warmest love refuse? 

But 'twas He to whom in heaven 

Hallelujahs never cease ; 
He, the mighty God, was given, — 

Given to us, — a Prince of peace. 

None but He who did create us 
Could redeem from sin and hell ; 

None but He could reinstate us 
In the rank from which we fell. 



OH, HOW WONDROUS IS THE STORY ! 7 1 

Had He corns, the glorious Stranger, 
Decked with all the world calls great ; 

Had He lived in pomp and grandeur, 
Crowned with more than royal state, — 

Still our tongues, with praise o'erflowing, 
On such boundless love would dwell ; 

Still our hearts, with rapture glowing. 
Feel what words could never tell. 

But what wonder should it raise, 

Thus our lowest state to borrow ! 
Oh, the high mysterious ways, — 

God's own Son a child of sorrow ! 

'Twas to bring us endless pleasure 

He our suffering nature bore ; 
'Twas to give us heavenly treasure 

He was willing to be poor. 

Come, ye rich, survey the stable 

Where your infant Saviour lies ; 
From your full, o'erflowing table. 

Send the hungry good supplies. 

Boast not your ennobled stations ; 

Boast not that you're highly fed ; 
Jesus — hear it, all ye nations ! — 

Had not where to lay His head. 



72 THE INCARNATION. 

Learn of me, thus cries the Saviour, 
If my kingdom you'd inherit ; 

Sinner, quit your proud behavior. 
Learn my meek and lowly spirit. 

Come, ye servants, see your station 
Freed from all reproach and shame : 

He who purchased your salvation 
Bore a servant's humble name. 

Come, ye poor, some comfort gather; 

Faint not in the race you run : 
Hard the lot your gracious Father 

Gave His dear, His only Son. 

Think that, if your humbler stations 
Less of worldly good bestow. 

You escape those strong temptations 
Which from wealth and grandeur flow. 

See, your Saviour is ascended; 

See, He looks with pity down : 
Trust Him, all will soon be mended ; 

Bear His cross, you'll share His crown. 



WHEN JORDAN HUSHED HIS WATERS STILL. 73 



WHEN JORDAN HUSHED HIS WATERS 
STILL. 



Thomas Campbell ; bom at Glasgow, 1777 ; died 1844, and interred in the 
Poets' Comer in Westminster Abbey. 



"T"\ T'HEN Jordan hushed his waters still, 

^ ' And silence slept on Zion's hill ; 
When Salem's shepherds through the night 
Watched o'er their flocks by starry light, — 

Hark ! from the midnight hills around, 
A voice, of more than mortal sound, 
In distant hallelujahs stole, 
Wild murmuring o'er the raptured soul. 

Then swift to every startled eye. 
New streams of glory gild the sky ; 
Heaven bursts her azure gates, to pour 
Her spirits to the midnight hour. 

On wheels of light, on wings of flame, 
The glorious hosts to Zion came ; 
High heaven with songs of triumph rung. 
While thus they smote their harps and sung : 



74 



THE INCARNATION. 



O Zion ! lift thy raptured eye : 
The long-expected hour is nigh ; 
The joys of nature rise again ; 
The Prince of Salem comes to reign. 

See Mercy, from her golden urn, 
Pours a rich stream to them that mourn ; 
Behold, she binds, with tender care, 
The bleeding bosom of Despair. 



He comes to cheer the trembling heart, 
Bids Satan and his host depart ; 
Again the day-star gilds the gloom, 
Again the bowers of Eden bloom. 

O Zion ! lift thy raptured eye : 
The long-expected hour is nigh ; 
The joys of nature rise again ; 
The Prince of Salem comes to reign., 



HARK I WHAT MEAN THOSE HOLY VOICES? 75 



HARK! WHAT MEAN THOSE HOLY 
VOICES? 



Rev. John Cawood (born at Matlock, in Derbyshire, 1775 ; died 1852). From the 
author's MS., furnished by his son for Rogers's Lyra Britannica, Lond. 1867. In 
the usual collections, the Hallelujah and the last stanza are omitted. Cawood wrote 
also, as a counterpart, a missionary hymn commencing, " Hark ! what mean those 
lamentations, Rolling sadly through the sky? 'Tis the cry of heathen nations, — 
' Come and help us, or we die ! ' " 



T TARK ! what mean those holy voices 
•^ -^ Sweetly warbling in the skies ? 
Sure the angelic host rejoices, 
Loudest hallelujahs rise. 
Hallelujah ! 

Listen to the wondrous stor}^, 

Which they chant in hymns of joy : 

" Glory in the highest, glory. 
Glory be to God most high ! 
Hallelujah ! 

"Peace on earth, good will from heaven. 
Reaching far as man is found ; 

Souls redeemed, and sins forgiven, 
Loud our golden harps shall sound. 
Hallelujah ! 



h() THE INCARNATION. 

" Christ is born, the great Anointed ! 

Heaven and earth His glory sing ! 
Glad receive whom God appointed 

For your Prophet, Priest, and King. 
Hallelujah ! 

"Hasten, mortals, to adore Him, 
Learn His name and taste His joy, 

Till in heaven you sing before Him, 
Glory be to God most high ! 
Hallelujah!" 

Let us learn the wondrous story 
Of our great Redeemer's birth, 

Spread the brightness of His glory, 
Till it cover all the earth. 
Hallelujah ! 



ANGELS, FROM THE REALMS OF 
GLORY. 



James Montgomery, son of a Moravian minister; bom 1771 ; died at Sheffield, 
1854. His first volume of poems was composed in prison, and published in 1797, 
under the title, Prison A musemenis. 



\ NGELS, from the realms of glory, 
-^^^ Wing your flight o'er all the earth ; 
Ye who sang creation's story. 
Now proclaim Messiah's birth ; 

Come and worship, — 
Worship Christ the new-born King. 



ANGELS, FROM THE REALMS OF GLORY. 77 

Shepherds, in the field abiding. 

Watching o'er your flocks by night, 

God with man is now residing, 
Yonder shines the infant-light. 

Come and worship, — 
Worship Christ the new-born King. 

Sages, leave your contemplations : 

Brighter visions beam afar ; 
Seek the great Desire of nations : 

Ye have seen His natal star. 
Come and worship, — 

Worship Christ the new-born King. 

Saints before the altar bending. 

Watching long in hope and fear, 
Suddenly the Lord, descending. 

In His temple shall appear. 
Come and worship, — 

Worship Christ the new-born King. 

Sinners, wrung wath true repentance, 
Doomed for guilt to endless pains, 

Justice now revokes the sentence ; 
Mercy calls you, break your chains ; 

Come and worship, — 
Worship Christ the new-born King. 



78 



THE INCARNATION. 



WHAT SUDDEN BLAZE OF SONG. 



Dr. John Keble (died 1866). From his Christian Year, 1827. 



TT 7HAT sudden blaze of song 

^ ^ Spreads o'er the expanse of heaven ! 
In waves of light it thrills along, 
The angelic signal given : 
" Glory to God ! " from yonder central fire 
Flows out the echoing lay beyond the starry choir. 



Like circles widening round 
Upon a clear blue river, 
Orb after orb, the wondrous sound 
Is echoed on for ever : 
"Glory to God on high, on earth be peace, 
And love towards men of love, salvation 
release ! " 



and 



Yet stay, before thou dare 
To join that festal throng ; 
Listen, and mark what gentle air 
First stirred the tide of song : 
'Tis not, "The Saviour born in David's home. 
To whom for power and health obedient worlds 
should come." 



I 



WHAT SUDDEN BLAZE OF SONG. 79 

'Tis not, "The Christ the Lord : " 
With fixed adoring look 
The choir of angels caught the word, 
Nor yet their silence broke : 
But when they heard the sign, where Christ 
should be, 
In sudden light they shone, and heavenly harmony. 

Wrapped in His swaddling bands, 
And in His manger laid. 
The Hope and Glory of all lands 
Is come to the world's aid : 
No peaceful home upon His cradle smiled ; 
Guests rudely went and came, where slept the royal 
Child. 

But where Thou dwellest. Lord, 
No other thought should be ; 
Once duly welcomed and adored. 
How should I part with Thee? 
Bethlehem must lose Thee soon ; but Thou wilt 
grace 
The single heart to be Thy sure abiding-place. 

Thee, on the bosom laid 
Of a pure virgin mind. 
In quiet ever and in shade 
Shepherd and sage may find ; 



g 



n 



80 THE INCARNATION. 

They who have bowed untaught to Nature's 
sway, 
And they who follow Truth along her star-paved 
way. 

The pastoral spirits first 
Approach Thee, Babe divine; 
For they in lowly thoughts are nursed. 
Meet for Thy lowly shrine : 
Sooner than they should miss where Thou dost 
dwell. 
Angels from heaven will stoop to guide them to 
Thy cell. 

Still, as the day comes round 
For Thee to be revealed, 
B}^ wakeful shepherds Thou art found, 
Abiding in the field : 
All through the wintry heaven and chill night air 
In music and in light Thou dawnest on their prayer. 

Oh faint not ye for fear ! 
What though your wandering sheep. 
Reckless of what they see and hear, 
Lie lost in wilful sleep ? 
High Heaven, in mercy to your sad annoy, 
Still greets you with glad tidings of immortal joy. 



'tis come, the time so oft foretold. 8i 

Think on the eternal home 
The Saviour left for you ; 
Think on the Lord most holy, come 
To dwell with hearts untrue : 
So shall ye tread untired His pastoral ways. 
And in the darkness sing your carol of high praise. 



TIS COME, THE TIME SO OFT 
FORETOLD. 



Thomas Grinfield, 1836. 



"T^IS come, the time so oft foretold, 

•^ The time eternal love forecast ; 
Four thousand years of hope have rolled, 
And God hath sent His Son at last. 
Let heaven, let earth, adore the plan : 
Glory to God, and grace to man ! 

To swains that watched their nightly fold, 
Of lowly lot, of lowly mind. 
To these the tidings first were told. 
That told of hope for lost mankind. 
God gives His Son ; no more He can : 
Glory to God, and grace to man ! 
6 



ft 



82 THE INCARNATION. 

And well to shepherds first 't is known, 
The Lord of angels comes from high, 
In hmnblest aspect like their own, 
Good Shepherd, for His sheep to die. 
. O height and depth, which who shall span? 
Glory to God, and grace to man ! 

Fain with those meek, those happy swains, 
Lord, I would hear that angel choir ; 
Till, ravished by celestial strains. 
My heart responds with holy fire, 
(That holy fire Thy breath must fan,) 
Glory to God, and grace to man ! 



THE HAPPY CHRISTMAS COMES ONCE 
MORE. 



Translated from the Danish, by Dr. Chs. P. Krauth, Phila. 1867. 



'TPHE happy Christmas comes once morC; 

-*■ The heavenly Guest is at the door : 
The blessed words the shepherds thrill, 
The joyous tidings : Peace, good-will ! 

To David's city let us fly. 
Where angels sing beneath the sky ; 
Through plain and village pressing near, 
And news from God with shepherds hear. 



^ 


^ 


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THE HAPPY CHRISTMAS COMES ONCE MORE. 83 

Oh ! let us go with quiet mind, 
The gentle Babe with shepherds find, 
To gaze on Him who gladdens them. 
The loveliest Flower of Jesse's stem. 

The lowly Saviour meekly lies, 
Laid off the splendor of the skies ; 
No crown bedecks his forehead fair, 
No pearl nor gem nor silk is there. 

No human glory, might, and gold, 
The lovely Infant's form enfold ; 
The manger and the swaddlings poor 
Are His whom angels' songs adore. 

wake our hearts, in gladness sing ! 
And keep our Christmas with our King, 
Till living song, from loving souls. 
Like sound of mighty waters rolls. 

holy Child 1 Thy manger streams 
Till earth and heaven glow with its beams. 
Till midnight noon's broad light has won. 
And Jacob's Star outshines the sun. 

Thou Patriarchs' joy, Thou Prophets' song, 
Thou heavenly Day-spring, looked for long, 
Thou Son of Man, Incarnate Word, 
Great David's Son, great David's Lord ! 


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^ 


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84 THE INCARNATION. 

Come, Jesus, glorious, heavenly Guest, 
Keep Thine own Christmas in our breast ! 
Then David's harp-strings, hushed so long, 
Shall swell our Jubilee of song. 



CAROL, BROTHERS, CAROL. 



W. A. Muhlenberg, D.D. A Christmas Carol, made for the boys of St. Paul's 
College; the Chorus adapted from one of A. C. Coxe's Christian Ballads, 1840. 



/^^AROL, brothers, carol, 
^-^ Carol joyfully ; 
Carol the good tidings, 

Carol merrily ; 
And pray a gladsome Christmas 

For all good Christian men. 
Carol, brothers, carol, 

Christmas times again. 

Carol ye with gladness, 

Not in songs of earth ; 
On the Saviour's birthday, 

Hallowed be our mirth. 
While a thousand blessings 

Fill our hearts with glee, 
Christmas-day we'll keep, the 

Feast of Charity ! 



CAROL, BROTHERS, CAROL. 85 

At the joyous table, 

Think of those who've none, — 
The orphan and the widow, 

Hungry and alone. 
Bountiful your offerings. 

To the altar bring ; 
Let the poor and needy 

Christmas carols sing. 

Listening angel-music, 

Discord sure must cease ; 
Who dare hate his brother. 

On this day of peace? 
While the heavens are telling 

To mankind good-will. 
Only love and kindness 

Every bosom fill. 

Let our hearts, responding 

To the seraph band, 
Wish this morning's sunshine 

Bright in every land ! 
Word and deed and prayer 

Speed the grateful sound, 
Bidding merry Christmas 

All the world around. 



9 



86 THE INCARNATION. 



COME, YE LOFTY ! COME, YE LOWLY ! 



By Archer Gurney. [i860.] 



/^~^OME, ye lofty ! come, ye lowly ! 
^^ Let your songs of gladness ring ! 
In a stable lies the Holy, 

In a manger rests the King : 
See, in Mary's arms reposing, 

Christ by highest heaven adored : 
Come ! yom* circle round Him closing. 

Pious hearts that love the Lord. 

Come, ye poor ! no pomp of station 

Robes the Child your hearts adore : 
He, the Lord of all salvation, 

Shares your want, is weak and poor : 
Oxen round about behold them, 

Rafters naked, cold, and bare : 
See ! the shepherds ! God has told them 

That the Prince of Life lies there. 

Come, ye children, blithe and merry ! 

This one Child your model make ; 
Christmas holly, leaf and berry, 
• All be prized for His dear sake : 



COME, YE LOFTY ! COME, YE LOWLY ! 87 

Come, ye gentle hearts and tender ! 

Come, ye spirits keen and bold ! 
All in all your homage render. 

Weak and mighty, young and old. 

High above a star is shining. 

And the Wise Men haste from far : 
Come, glad hearts, and spirits pining ! 

For you all has risen the Star. 
Let us bring our poor oblations. 

Thanks and love and faith and praise : 
Come, ye people ! come, ye nations ! 

All in all draw nigh to gaze. 

Hark ! the heaven of heavens is ringing : 

Christ the Lord to man is born : 
Are not all our hearts, too, singing. 

Welcome, welcome, Christmas morn? 
Still the Child, all power possessing. 

Smiles as through the ages past ; 
And the song of Christmas-blessing 

Sweetly sinks to rest at last. 



88 THE INCARNATION. 



JOY AND GLADNESS, 



By George W. Bethune, D.D. ; born at New York, 1805; died at Florence, 
1862. From Lays of Love and Faith, Philad. 1847. 



TOY and gladness ! joy and gladness ! 
^ O happy day ! 

Every thought of sin and sadness 

Chase, chase away. 
Heard ye not the angels telling, 
Christ the Lord of might excelling, 
On the earth with man is dwelling, 
Clad in our clay? 

With the shepherd throng around Him 

Haste we to bow : 
By the angels' sign they found Him, 

We know Him now ; 
New-born Babe of houseless stranger, 
Cradled low in Bethlehem's manger, 
Saviour from our sin and danger, 

Jesus, 'tis Thou ! 

God of Life, in mortal weakness. 

Hail, Virgin-born ! 
Infinite in lowly meekness. 

Thou wilt not scorn ; 



JOY AND GLADNESS. 89 

Though all heaven is singing o'er Thee, 
And gray wisdom bows before Thee, 
When our youthful hearts adore Thee, 
This holy morn. 

Son of Mary, (blessed mother !) 

Thy love we claim ; 
Son of God, our elder brother, 

(O gentle name !) 
To Thy Father's throne ascended, 
With Thine own His glory blended, 
Thou art, all Thy trials ended, 

Ever the same. 

Thou wert born to tears and sorrows. 

Pilgrim divine ; 
Watchful nights and weary morrows. 

Brother, were Thine : 
By Thy fight with strong temptation. 
By Thy cup of tribulation, 
O Thou God of our salvation. 

With mercy shine ! 

In Thy holy footsteps treading. 

Guide, lest we stray; 
From Thy word of promise shedding 

Light on our way ; 
Never leave us nor forsake us, 
Like Thyself in mercy make us. 
And at last to glory take us, 

Jesus, we pray. 



9© THE INCARNATION. 



IT CAME UPON THE MIDNIGHT 
CLEAR. 



Rev. Edmund H. Sears; b., in 1810, in Berkshire Co., Massachusetts; author 
of AtJuinasia, or Foregleams 0/ Ijnmoriality^ and other works, i860. 



TT came upon the midnight clear, 
■^ That glorious song of old, 
From angels bending near the earth 

To touch their harps of gold : 
"Peace to the earth, good-will to' men 

From heaven's all-gracious King ! " 
The world in solemn stillness lay 

To hear the angels sing. 

Still through the cloven skies they come, 

With peaceful wings unfurled ; 
And still their heavenly music floats 

O'er all the weary world : 
Above its sad and lowly plains 

They bend on heavenly wing, 
And ever o'er its Babel sounds 

The blessed angels sing. 

Yet with the woes of sin and strife 
The world has suffered long ; 

Beneath the angel-strain have rolled 
Two thousand years of wrong ; 



IT CAME UPON THE MIDNIGHT CLEAR. 9 1 

And men J at war with men, hear not 
The love-song which they bring : 

Oh ! hush the noise, ye men of strife, 
And hear the angels sing ! 

And ye, beneath life's crushing load 

Whose forms are bending low ; 
Who toil along the climbing way 

With painful steps and slow, — 
Look now ! for glad and golden hours 

Come swiftly on the wing : 
Oh ! rest beside the weary road, 

And hear the angels sing ! 

For lo ! the days are hastening on, 

By prophet-bards foretold, 
When with the ever-circling years 

Comes round the age of gold ; 
When Peace shall over all the earth 

Its ancient splendors fling, 
And the whole world send back the song 

Which now the angels sing. 



92 



THE INCARNATION. 



LO, GOD, OUR GOD, HAS COME! 



By L>r. Horatius Bonar. From Hymns of Faith and Hope, Third Series, i5 



Foeno jacere pertulit, 
Prsesepe non abhorruit, 
Parvoque lacte pastus est, 
Per quem nee ales esurit. 

Old Hymn. 

T O, God, our God, has come ! 

-■-^ To us a Child is born, 

To us a Son is given ; 

Bless, bless the blessed morn, 
O happy, lowly, lofty birth. 
Now God, our God, has come to earth ! 

Rejoice ! our God has come 

In love and lowliness : 
The Son of God has come. 
The sons of men to bless. 
God with us now descends to dwell, 
God in our flesh, Immanuel. 

Praise ye the Word made flesh ! 

True God, true man is He. 
Praise ye the Christ of God ! 
To Him all glory be. 
Praise ye the Lamb that once was slain, 
Praise ye the King that comes to reign ! 



IN BETHLEHEM, THE LORD OF GLORY. 93 



IN BETHLEHEM, THE LORD OF GLORY. 

{Er ist in Bethlehem geboren.') 



"Bethlehem and Golgotha." A lyric of rare beauty, by Friedrich Ruckert, 
one of the greatest and purest of German poets (died 1867). Admirably translated by 
the Rev. Thomas C. Porter, Professor of Natural Sciences, Easton, Pa. 



TN Bethlehem, the Lord of glory, 

-^ Who brought us life, first drew His breath ; 

On Golgotha, — oh, bloody story ! — 

By suffering broke tlie power of death. 
From Western shores, all danger scorning, 
I travelled through the lands of morning ; 

And greater spots I nowhere saw, 

Than Bethlehem and Golgotha. 

Where are the seven works of wonder 

The ancient world beheld with pride? 
They all have fallen, sinking under 

The splendor of the Crucified ! 
I saw them, as I wandered spying, 
Amid their ruins crumbled, lying; 

None stand in quiet gloria 

Like Bethlehem and Golgotha. 



94 



THE INCARNATION. 

Away, ye pyramids, whose bases 
Lie shrouded in Egyptian gloom ! 

Eternal graves ! no resting places, 
Where hope immortal gilds the tomb. 

Ye sphinxes, vain was your endeavor 

To solve life's riddle, dark for ever, 
Until the answer came with awe 
From Bethlehem and Golgotha. 

Fair paradise, where ever blowing 
The roses of Shiraz expand ! 

Ye stately palms of India, growing 
Along her scented ocean-strand ! 

I see, amid your loveHest bowers. 

Death stalking in the sunniest hours. 
Look up ! To you life comes from far, 
From Bethlehem and Golgotha. 

Thou Caaba, half the world, benighted, 
Is stumbling o'er thee, as of old ; 

Now, by thy crescent faintly lighted. 
The coming day of doom behold : 

The moon before the sun decreases, 

A sign shall shiver thee to pieces ; 
The Hero's sign ! "Victoria ! " 
Shout Bethlehem and Golgotha. 

O Thou who, in a manger lying, 
Wert willing to be born a child, 

And on the cross, in anguish dying, 
The world to God hast reconciled ! 



9 



IN BETHLEHEM, THE LORD OF GLORY. 95 

To pride, how mean Th}^ lowly manger ! 
How infamous Thy cross ! yet stranger ! 

Humility became the law 

At Bethlehem and Golgotha. 

Proud kings, to worship One descended 

From humble shepherds, thither came ; 
And nations to the cross have wended. 

As pilgrims, to adore His name. 
By war's fierce tempest rudely battered. 
The world, but not the cross, was shattered, 

When East and West it struggling saw 

Round Bethlehem and Golgotha. 

O let us not with mailed legions. 

But with the spirit take the field. 
To win again those holy regions. 

As Christ compelled the world to yield ! 
Let rays of light, on all sides streaming, 
Dart onward, like apostles gleaming, 

Till all mankind their light shall draw 

From Bethlehem and Golgotha ! 

With stafi;' and hat, the scallop wearing, 

The far-oflf East I journeyed through ; 
And homeward, now, a pilgrim bearing 

This message, I have come to you : 
Go not with hat and staflf to wander 
Beside God's grave and cradle yonder ; 

Look inward, and behold with awe 

His Bethlehem and Golgotha. 



96 THE INCARNATION. 

O heart ! what profits all thy kneeling, 

Where once He laid His infant head, 
To view with an enraptured feeling 

His grave, long empty of its dead? 
To have Him born in thee with power, 
To die to earth and sin each hour, 

And live to Him, — this only, ah ! 

Is Bethlehem and Golgotha. 




THE INFANT SAVIOUR WITH THE 
VIRGIN MOTHER. 



"Hail, thou that art highlj' favored, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou 
among women." — Luke i. 28. 

" Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart." — Luke ii. 19. 

" r~^^ wedded Maid and Virgin Mother born," 
^^ John Milton. 

" Say of me as the angel said, — ' Thou art 
The blessedest of women ! ' — blessedest, 
Not holiest, not noblest, — no high name, 
Whose height, misplaced, may pierce me like a shame. 
When I sit meek in heaven ! " 

Mrs. Browning. 

Stabat Mater speciosa 
Juxta foenum gaudiosa, 

Dum jacebat parvulus — 
Cujus animam gaudentem, 
Lastabundam ac ferventem, 

Pertransivit jubilus. 

O quam laeta et beata 
Fuit hasc immaculata 

Mater Unigeniti ! 
Quse gaudebat et ridebat, 
Exultabat, cum videbat 

Nati partum inclyti ! 

Jacobus de Benedictis. 1306, 




THE INFANT SAVIOUR WITH 
THE VIRGIN MOTHER. 



THE GOD WHOM EARTH AND SEA. 

{^uem terra, ;pontus, si'dera.) 



Old Latin hymn. Daniel, Tome I. p. 172 (two forms); translated in The 
Words 0/ tJie Hymnal Noted, No. 88, and, with some changes, in Hymns Ancient 
and Modern, No. 249. Abridged. 



nPHE God whom earth and sea and sky 

Adore and laud and magnify, 
Whose might they own, whose praise they swell. 
In Mary's womb vouchsafed to dwell. 

The Lord whom sun and moon obey, 
Whom all things serve from day to day, 
Was by the Holy Ghost conceived, 
Of her who, through His grace, beheved. 

How blest that Mother, in whose shrine 
The world's Creator, Lord divine. 
Whose hand contains the earth and sky. 
Once deigned, as in His ark, to lie ! 



lOO INFANT SAVIOUR WITH VIRGIN MOTHER. 

Blest in the message Gabriel brought, 
Blest by the work the Spirit wrought, 
From whom the great Desire of earth 
Took human flesh and human birth. 

O Lord, the Virgin-born, to Thee 
Eternal praise and glory be ! 
Whom, with the Father, we adore, 
And Holy Ghost for evermore. 



WHEN, WITHIN HIS MOTHER'S ARMS. 

{Parvum quando cerno DeumS) 



Bj' an anonjTTious author of the i4th-i6th centuiy. See Daniel, II. p. 342. 
Translated by the Rev. Dr. E. A. Washburn, New York, May, 1868. Contributed. 



TT 7HEN within His mother's arms 

^ ^ I the infant God behold, 
All my heart the vision warms 
With a blessedness untold. 

Leaps He, mother I leaps the Boy, 
Gazing at thy holy breast ! 
Kisses with a smile of joy. 
Thousand kisses, fondly pressed ! 



:=> 



WHEN, WITHIN HIS MOTHERS ARMS. lOI 

As upon the stainless skies 
Peaceful hangs the new-born sun, 
So upon th}^ bosom lies, 
Mother pure, thy Holy One. 

Ah ! how lovely that repose ! 
Mother with the Infant fair, 
Twined as with the tender rose 
Violet and lily are. 

Many a silent clasp of bliss, 
Man}^ a look of smiling love, 
As the flowers the meadows kiss, 
As the starry eyes above. 

Oh ! if one such loving dart, 
Falling on that mother mild. 
May but fall upon my heart. 
Infant Jesu, Holy Child ! ^ 



1 " O ! ut una ex sagittis, 
Dulcis O puerule ! 
Quas in matris pectus mittis, 
Cadat in me, Jesule 1 " 



I02 INFANT SAVIOUR WITH VIRGIN MOTHER. 



SLEEP, HOLY BABE. 



Edward E. Caswall. 



" But see, the Virgin blest 
Hath laid her Babe to rest." 

Milton. 

OLEEP, Holy Babe, 
^^ Upon Thy mother's breast ; 
Great Lord of earth and sea and sky. 
How sweet it is to see Thee lie 
In such a place of rest ! 

Sleep, Holy Babe : 
Thine angels watch around, 
All bending low, with folded wings, 
Before the Incarnate King of kings. 
In reverent awe profound. 

Sleep, Holy Babe, 

While I with Mary gaze 
In joy upon that face awhile, 
Upon the loving Infant smile. 

Which there divinely plays. 



THOU STANDEST BETWEEN EARTH AND HEAVEN. IO3 

Sleep, Holy Babe ; 

Ah ! take Thy brief repose : 
Too quickly will Thy slumbers break, 
And Thou to lengthened pains awake, 

That death alone shall close. 

Then must those hands 

Which now so fair I see, 
Those little pearly feet of Thine, 
So soft, so delicately fine. 

Be pierced and rent for me. 

Then must that brow 

Its thorny crown receive ; 
That cheek, more lovely than the rose. 
Be drenched with blood, and marred with blows, 

That I thereby may live. 



THOU STAND'ST BETWEEN THE EARTH 
AND HEAVEN. 



Mrs. Grace Webster Hinsdale, Brookljm, N.Y- Written after viewing Ra- 
phael's Madonna di San Sisto, in the Royal Gallery of Dresden, Aug. 1867. 



^ I ^HOU stand'st bet^veen the earth and heaven, 

Sweet Mary, with thy boy ; 
And on thy young and lovely face 
Lingers surprise and joy. 



I04 INFANT SAVIOUR WITH VIRGIN MOTHER. 

The angel's words are sounding yet 

In thy attentive ear ; 
Thou hold'st thy child most tenderly, 

And yet with awe and fear. 

Almost a frightened look thou hast, 

As if within thy thought 
The glory of thy motherhood 

An anxious burden brought. 

Thou dar'st not clasp the Holy Child 

With freedom to thy breast ; 
And yet, because He is thine own. 

Thou look'st supremely blest. 

God gave the Boy into thine arms. 

And thou His mother art ; 
And yet the words the angel spoke 

Are lingering in thy heart. 

Thou canst not call Him quite thine own ; 

And when, upon thy knee. 
He sleeps as other infants sleep, 

Thou dost a glory see. 

Which fills thee with a kind of awe, 

And makes thee tremble so, 
That thou dost lay thy Baby down. 

And, bending very low. 



THOU STANDEST BETWEEN EARTH AND HEAVEN. IO5 

Dost ask the Father why He sent 

A Babe divine to thee. 
And, pouring out thy troubled heart, 

Dost seek His sympathy. 

O Mary ! loved of God and man, 

Let all thy fears depart : 
For God will send His Spirit down, 

To guide thy anxious heart ; 

And thou shalt rear the Blessed Child, 

Cheered by His smile divine ; 
And, in thy sweet and humble home, 

Shall God's veiled glory shine. 

But, oh ! I dread for thee the hour 

When thou shalt stand alone 
Beneath the cross where God's dear Son 

Shall for man's sin atone. 

A sword shall enter then thine heart. 

And leave such bitter pain. 
That thou wilt kneel in agony, 

Inquiring once again. 

Why God should crush thee with a grief 

No other heart could share? 
And why, in utter loneliness. 

Thou must the anguish bear? 



I06 INFANT SAVIOUR WITH VIRGIN MOTHER. 

And, oh ! I see another da}^ 

When thou shalt wondering stand, 

Amidst a throng who welcome thee, 
In heaven, the blessed land ! 

And then the Lord, who lived on earth 

Clothed in humility, 
Shall sit upon. His Father's throne 

In radiant majesty. 

The angels then shall lead thy feet 

Across the crj'stal sea ; 
And thou shalt reach the Blessed One 

Who lived and died for thee. 

Thy grateful praise shall swell the song 
Which rises toward the throne ; 

For then the mysteries of earth 
Shall all be fully known. 

Sweet Mary, when the gate of life 
Death's hand unlocks for me, 

I shall discern thy lovely face, 
By its humility. 



HAIL, INFANT MARTYRS I 



107 



HAIL, INFANT MARTYRS! 

i^Salvete. Jiores viartyruin /) 



The Infant MartjTS of Bethlehem. From a famous hj'mn of Prudentius of 
Spain (d. 405), which is used in the Latin Church on Innocents' Day, — the second 
day after Christmas. Christ was bom on earth, that we might be bom in heaven. 
The ancient Church called the death of the martyrs their lieavenly birthday. The 
translation is from Chandler's Hyintis of the Primitive Church, 1837. See the 
Latin in Daniel, I. X24, and in Trench, p. 121. Other English translations bj' J. M. 
Neale ("All hail, ye infant martyr-flowers!"), and by Caswall ("Lovely flowers 
of mart>Ts, hail ! ") The Venerable Bede (d. 735) wTOte also a hymn for the Holy 
Innocents, commencing, " Hymnum canentes Martyrum " (repeating the first line in 
the last of every stanza) ; and John Keble, in his Christian Year('^ Say, ye cele.stial 
guards who vrait"), which is far superior in poetic merit to that of Bede. 



TTAIL, infant martyrs ! new-born victims, hail ! . 
-^ -^ Hail, earliest flowerets of the Christian spring ! 
O'er whom, like rosebuds scattered by the gale, 
The cruel sword such havoc dared to fling. 

The Lord's first votive offerings of blood. 
First tender lambs upon the altar laid, 
Around in fearless innocence they stood. 
And sported gayly with the murderous blade. 

Oh ! what availed thee, Herod, this thy guilt, 
This load of crime that on thy conscience lies? 
The Lord alone, whose blood thou wouldst have 

spilt. 
Now mocks thy malice, and thy power defies. 



I08 INFANT SAVIOUR WITH VIRGIN MOTHER. 

Yes ! He alone survived, when all the ground 
Drank the red' torrents of that carnage wild : 
Though many a childless mother wailed around, 
The hand of murder spared the Virgin's Child ! 

O Jesu, Virgin-born ! all praise to Thee, 
And to the Father and the Holy Ghost ; 
One God eternal, ever honored be, 
By saints on earth, and by the heavenly host. 



THE MATER DOLOROSA. 



From Mrs. H. Beecher Stowe's "Mary at the Cross." Religious Poejns, 
Boston, 1867, pp. 22-27. I have selected the first and the last stanza of this beautiful 
poem, which may be called a worthy Protestant pendant of the Stabat Mater. 



r^ WONDROUS mother ! since the dawn of time 
^^^ Was ever love, was ever grief, like thine? 
O highly favored in thy joy's deep flow. 

And favored, even in this, thy bittere'st woe ! 

By sufferings mighty as His mighty soul 
Hath the Redeemer risen for ever blest ; 

And through all ages must His heart-beloved 
Through the same baptism enter the same rest. 



T^^^1)J#^ 


1 


^^^M 




M 


^^^^^^^ 



THE EPIPHANY. 



" The Gentiles shall come to Thy light, and Idngs to the brightness of Thy rising." 
— IsA. Ix. 3. 

" Wlien they were come into the house, they saw the young Child, with Mary his 
mother, and fell down, and worshipped Him ; and, when they had opened their treas- 
ures, they presented unto Him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh." — Matt. 



A LMIGHTY GOD, who, bj the light of a glorious star, didst 
make known Thine onlj-begotten Son to the wise men 
coming from afar to worship Him : mercifully grant, that all 
nations may come to the light of the gospel, and that we, who 
know Thee now by faith, may be conducted to the full vision 
of Thy glory in heaven ; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who 
liveth and reigneth with Thee, and the Holy Ghost, ever one 
God, world without end. Amen. 



' O Jesu, mi dulcissime, 
vSpes suspirantis animae, 
Te qujerunt pise lacrymae, 
Te clamor mentis intimas. 

Tu cordis delectatio, 
Amoris consummatio, 
Tu mea gloriatio, 
Jesu mundi salvatio." 

From St. Bernard. 



THE EPIPHANY. 



A STAR SHINES FORTH IN HEAVEN 
SUDDENLY. 



From the Syriac of Ephr^m Syrus, a monk and deacon in Mesopotamia, the father 
of Syrian psalmody (died 378). The original, with a German translation by Zingerle, 
in Daniel's Thes. HyinnoL, III. p. 149-151. 



A 



STAR shines forth in heaven suddenly, 



A wondrous orb, less than the sun 
greater, — 
Less in its outward light, but greater in 
Its inward glory, pointing to a mystery. 
That morning star sent forth its beams afar 
Into the land of those who had no light ; 
Led them as blind men, by a way they knew not. 
Until they came and saw the Light of men. 
Offered their gifts, received eternal life. 
Worshipped, and went their way. 
Thus had the Son two heralds, one on high. 
And one below. Above, the star rejoiced ; 
Below, the Baptist bore Him record : 



yet 



112 THE EPIPHANY. 

Two heralds thus, one heavenly, one of earth; 

That witnessing the nature of the Son, 

The majesty of God, and this His human nature. 

O mighty wonder ! thus were they the heralds. 

Both of His Godhead and His manhood. 

Who held Him only for a son of earth. 

To such the star proclaimed His heavenly glory ; 

Who held Him only for a heavenly spirit. 

To such the Baptist spoke of Him as man. 

And in the holy temple Simeon held the Babe 

Fast in his aged arms, and sang to Him — 

"To me, in Thy mercy. 

An old man. Thou art come ; 
Thou layest my body 

In peace in the tomb. 
Thou soon wilt awake me, 

And bid me arise ; 
Wilt lead me transfigured 

To paradise." 

Then Anna took the Babe upon her arms. 

And pressed her mouth upon His infant lips ; 

Then came the Holy Spirit on her lips. 

As erst upon Isaiah's, when the coal 

Had touched his silent lips, and opened them : 

With glowing heart she sang — 

" O Son of the King ! 

Though Thy birthplace was mean, 



BETHLEHEM I OF NOBLEST CITIES. 



JI3 



All-hearing, yet silent, 

All-seeing, unseen, 
Unknown, yet all-knowing, 

God, and yet Son of Man, 
Praise to Thy name ! " 



BETHLEHEM! OF NOBLEST CITIES. 

(O sola magnarum urbtum.) 






AuRELius Prudentius Clemens (died 405). From the Latin, by E. Caswall 
{Lyra Catholica). The text of the Roman Breviary, in Daniel, I. p. 127, and in the 
separate editions of the poems of Prudentius. This translation is altered, but not im- 
proved, in Hymns A ncient and Modern, No. 59 : " Earth has many a noble city." 



"DETHLEHEM ! of noblest cities, 
"^ None can once with thee compare ; 
Thou alone the Lord from heaven 
Didst for us incarnate bear. 



Fairer than the sun at morning 
Was the star that told His birth ; 

To the lands their God announcing, 
Hid beneath a form of earth. 

By its lambent beauty guided. 
See, the Eastern kings appear ; 

See them bend, their gifts to offer, — 
Gifts of incense, gold, and myrrh. 
8 



J] 


4F> C 


^ 


r"" 




"3 


t) 


114 THE EPIPHANY. 

Offerings of mystic meaning ! — 
Incense doth the God disclose ; 

Gold a royal child proclaimeth ; 
Myrrh a future tomb foreshows. 

Holy Jesu ! in Thy brightness 
To the Gentile world displayed ! 

With the Father, and the Spirit, 
Endless praise to Thee be paid ! 

— •— 

WHAT STAR IS THIS WITH BEAMS 
SO BRIGHT? 

(^ucs Stella sole fulchrior /) 


> 




Translated from the Latin, by Rev. J". Chandler, Hymtis of the Primitive 






Church, Lond. 1837, Altered in Hymns Ancient and Modern. 






'X^T'HAT star is this, with beams so bright, 
^ ^ Which shame the sun's less radiant light? 










It shines to announce a new-born King, — 






Glad tidings of our God to bring. 






'Tis now fulfilled what God decreed, — 






"From Jacob shall a Star proceed : " 






And lo ! the Eastern sages stand, 




c 


To read in heaven the Lord's command. 


p 






^ 


^ 


^ ^ 





fc 



WHAT STAR IS THIS WITH BEAMS SO BRIGHT? II5 

While outward signs the star displays, 
An inward light the Lord conveys, 
And urges them, with force benign. 
To seek the Giver of the sign. 

True love can brook no dull delay. 
Nor toil nor dangers stop their way : 
Home, kindred, fatherland, and all. 
They leave at once, at God's high call. 

O Jesu, while the star of grace 

Invites us now to seek Thy face. 

May we no more that grace repel. 

Or quench that light which shines so well ! 

To God the Father, God the Son 
And Holy Spirit, Three in One, 
May every tongue and nation raise 
An endless song of thankful praise ! 



Il6 THE EPIPHANY, 



g 



O CHRIST, OUR TRUE AND ONLY 
LIGHT ! 

{O Jesii Ckriste, ivahres Licht.) 



From the German of Johann Heermann, 1653, by Miss C. Winkworth {Lyra 
Germ. II. 43). 

r\ CHRIST, our true and only light ! 
^^ Illumine those who sit in night ; 
Let those afar now hear Thy voice. 
And in Thy fold with us rejoice. 

Fill with the radiance of Thy grace 
The souls now lost in error's maze, 
And all in whom their secret mind 
Some dark delusion hurts and blinds. 

And all who else have strayed from Thee, 
Oh, gently seek ! Thy healing be 
To every wounded conscience given. 
And let them also share Thy heaven. 

O make the deaf to hear Thy word. 
And teach the dumb to speak, dear Lord, 
Who dare not yet the faith avow. 
Though secretly they hold it now. 



THEY GAVE TO THEE, 



117 



k 



Shine on the darkened and the cold, 
Recall the wanderers from Thy fold, 
Unite those now who walk apart, 
Confirm the weak and doubting heart. 

So they, with us, may evermore 
Such grace with wondering thanks adore ; 
And endless praise to Thee be given, 
By all Thy Church in earth and heaven. 



THEY GAVE TO THEE. 



By Bishop Jeremy Taylor (died 1667). 1650. 



T' 



^HEY gave to Thee 
Myrrh, frankincense, and gold; 
But, Lord, with what shall we 
Present ourselves before Thy majesty. 

Whom Thou redeemedst when we were sold? 
We've nothing but ourselves, and scarce that 
neither ; 

Vile dirt and clay ; 
Yet it is soft, and may 
Impression take. 
Accept it. Lord, and say, this Thou hadst rather ; 
Stamp it, and on this sordid metal make 
Thy holy image, and it shall outshine 
The beauty of the golden mine. 



Il8 THE EPIPHANY, 



ALL YE GENTILE LANDS, AWAKE! 

( Werde Lickt, du Volk der Heideti.^ 



By JoHANN RisT, 1655. Lyra Germ., I. 30. Abridged. 



\ LL ye Gentile lands, awake ! 
-^~^ Thou, O Salem, rise and shme ! 
See the Dayspring o'er you break, 
Heralding a morn divine. 
Telling, God hath called to mind 
Those who long in darkness pined. 

Lo, the shadows flee away ! 
For our Light is come at length. 
Brighter than all earthly day. 
Source of being, life, and strength ! 
Whoso on this Light would gaze 
Must forsake all evil ways. 

Ah ! how blindly did we stray. 
Ere shone forth this glorious Sun, 
Seeking each his separate way. 
Leaving Heaven unsought, unwon ! 
All our looks were earthwards bent. 
All our strength on earth was spent. 



a 



ALL YE GENTILE LANDS, AWAKE ! II9 

But the glory of the Lord 
Hath arisen on us to-day ! 
We have seen the light outpoured 
That must surely drive away 
All things that to night belong, 
All the sad earth's woe and wrong. 

Thy arising, Lord, shall fill 

All my thoughts in sorrow's hour ; 

Thy arising. Lord, shall still 

All my dread of Death's dark power : 

Through my smiles and through my tears 

Still Thy light, O Lord ! appears. 

Let me, Lord, in peace depart 

From this evil world to Thee ; 

Where Thyself sole Brightness art. 

Thou hast kept a place for me ; 

In the radiant city there, 

Crowns of light Thy saints shall wear. 




I20 THE EPIPHANY. 



THE WONDERING SAGES TRACE 
FROM FAR. 

(/w Abend blinkt der Morgenstern.) 



From the German of Ernst Lange (1650-1727). By Frances Elizabeth 
Cox, Sacred Hymns from the German, Lond. 1841. 



nr^HE wondering sages trace from far, 

■^ Bright in the west, the morning star ; 
A light illumes the western skies, 
Seen never in the east to rise. 

Eternity produced its blaze. 
Time's fulness hails its nearer rays ; 
Its brightness chases night away, 
And kindles darkness into day. 

O Jesu ! brightest Morning Star ! 

Shed forth Thy beams both near and far, 

That all, in these our later days, 

May know Thee, and proclaim Thy praise. 



SONS OF MEN, BEHOLD FROM FAR ! T2I 



SONS OF MEN, BEHOLD FROM FAR! 



Charles Wesley, 1739. 



OONS of men, behold from far ! 
^^ Hail the long-expected Star ! 
Jacob's Star that gilds the night 
Guides bewildered nature right. 

Fear not hence that ill should flow, 
Wars or pestilence below : 
Wars it bids and tumults cease, 
Ushering in the Prince of Peace. 

Mild He shines on all beneath, 
Piercing through the shades of death ; 
Scattering error's wide-spread night, 
Kindling darkness into light. 

Nations all, far off and near. 
Haste to see your God appear ! 
Haste ! for Him your hearts prepare. 
Meet Him manifested there. 



122 THE EPIPHANY. 

Here behold the Dayspring rise, 
Pouring eyesight on your eyes : 
God in His own light survey, 
Shining to the perfect day. 

Sing, ye morning stars, again ! 
God descends on earth to reign ; 
Deigns for man His life to employ 
Shout, ye sons of God, for joy ! 



BRIGHTEST AND BEST OF THE SONS 
OF THE MORNING. 



Reginald Heber, D.D. ; b. 1783, at Malpas, Cheshire; Bishop of Calcutta; 
d. 1827. 



BRIGHTEST and best of the sons of the morn- 
ing, 
Dawn on our darkness, and lend us Thine aid ; 
Star of the East, the horizon adorning, 
Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid. 

Cold on His cradle the dew-drops are shining. 
Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall ; 

Angels adore Him, in slumber reclining, 
Maker and Monarch and Saviour of all ! 



CHRIST, WHOSE FIRST APPEARANCE LIGHTED. 1 23 

Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion, 
Odors of Edom, and offerings divine. 

Gems of the mountain and pearls of the ocean. 
Myrrh from the forest or gold from the mine ? 

Vainly we offer each ample oblation. 

Vainly with gifts would His favor secure ; 

Richer by far is the heart's adoration. 

Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor. 

Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, 
Dawn on our darkness, and lend us Thine aid; 

Star of the East, the horizon adorning, 
Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid. 



CHRIST, WHOSE FIRST APPEARANCE 
LIGHTED. 

{Der Du in der Nacht des Todes.^ 



" The Appearance of Christ " (Die Erscheinung Christi), by C. J. Philipp Spitta 
(1801-1859). From the First Series of his Psaltery and Harp, which, since 1833, 
has passed through more than thirty editions, and has given the author a place among 
the sweetest hymnists of Germany. Translated by Richard Massie {Lyra Dojnes- 
tica-i Lond. iSCo). 



/'"^HRIST, whose first appearance lighted 
^-^ Gloomy Death's obscure domain. 
Long in Herod's courts benighted 
Sought I Thee, but sought in vain : 



124 



THE EPIPHANY. 

All was glitter, pomp and pleasure, 

Sensuality and pride ; 
But my heart found not its treasure, 

And remained unsatisfied. 

Then to learned scribes and sages 

Seeking Christ I wandered on ; 
But upon their barren pages 

Jacob's Star had never shone : 
True, indeed, like men in prison 

Groping for the light of day, 
Spake they of the Light new-risen, 

But themselves saw not one ray. 

To the temple I was guided 

By the altar-fire and lights ; 
But, though all else was provided, 

Christ was absent from the rites. 
Then, more precious time I wasted 

In thy streets, Jerusalem ; 
But I sought in vain, and hasted 

On my way to Bethlehem. 

In the streets I wandered slowly, 
Looking for some trusty guide ; 

All was dark and melancholy, 
None I met with, far and wide. 

On a sudden I perceived 

O'er my head a star to shine ; 



O THOU I WHO BY A STAR DIDST GUIDE. 1 25 

Lo, because I had believed, 

And had sought Him, Christ was mine ! 

Only seek and you will find Him : 

Never cease to seek the Lord ; 
And should He delay, remind Him 

Boldly of His plighted word. 
Follow Him, and He will lead you ; 

Trust Him in the darkest night ; 
Jacob's Star will still precede you, 

Jacob's Star will give you light. 



O THOU! WHO BY A STAR DIDST 
GUIDE. 



By Dr. John Mason Neale (died 1866). 



/^ THOU ! who by a star didst guide 
^^^ The wise men on their way, 
Until it came and stood beside 
The place where Jesus lay ; 

Although by stars Thou dost not lead 

Thy servants now below, 
Thy Holy Spirit, when they need, 

Will show them how to go. 



c 



126 THE EPIPHANY. 

As yet we know Thee but in part ; 

But still we trust Thy word, 
That blessed are the pure in heart, 

For they shall see the Lord. 

O Saviour ! give us, then, Thy grace, 
To make us pure in heart ; 

That we may see Thee face to face 
Hereafter, as Thou art. 



AS WITH GLADNESS MEN OF OLD. 



William Chatterton Dix (bom at Bristol, 1837; educated to mercantile pur- 
suits; residing at Glasgow). Contributed to Hymns Ancient and Modern, i860, 
No. 64. . 

A S with gladness men of old 
-^^^ Did the guiding star behold ; 
As with joy they hailed its light. 
Leading onward, beaming bright : 
So, most gracious Lord, may we 
Evermore be led to Thee. 

As with jo3^ful steps they sped 
To that lowly manger-bed ; 
There to bend the knee before 
Him whom heaven and earth adore : 
So may we, with willing feet. 
Ever seek Thy mercy-seat. 



AS WITH GLADNESS MEN OF OLD. 



127 



As they offered gifts most rare 
At that manger rude and bare ; 
So may we with holy joy, 
Pure, and free from sin's alloy, 
All our costliest treasures bring, 
Christ, to Thee, our Heavenly King ! 

Holy Jesus I every day 
Keep us in the narrow way ; 
And, when earthly things are past, 
Bring our ransomed souls at last 
Where they need no star to guide. 
Where no clouds Thy glory hide. 



In the heavenly country bright 
Need they no created light ; 
Thou its Light, its Joy, its Crown, — 
Thou its Sun, which goes not down : 
There for ever may we sing 
Hallelujahs to our King. 



fl 



128 THE EPIPHANY. 



THE WISE MEN TO THY CRADLE- 
THRONE. 



Mrs. Cecil Frances Alexander. Contributed to Baynes's Lyra Anglicana, 
1867. 

^ I ^HE wise men to Thy cradle-throne, 
-*- O Infant Saviour ! brought, of old, 
The incense meet for God alone, 
Sharp myrrh, and shining gold. 

Shine on us too, sweet Eastern Star, 
Thine own baptized Gentile band. 
Till we have found our Lord from far, 
An offering in our hand ! 

Till we have brought the fine gold rare, 
Of zeal that giveth all for love ; 
Till we have prayed the glowing prayer, 
Like incense borne above ; 

Till bitter tears our eyes have wet. 
Because our wilful hearts would err ; 
Worship and love and sorrow met. 
Gold, frankincense, and myrrh. 

All meet for Thee, our own Adored, 
Our suffering Saviour, God, and King ; 
Accept the gold and incense. Lord : 
Accept the myrrh, we bring. 



WE COME NOT WITH A COSTLY STORE. 1 29 



WE COME NOT WITH A COSTLY 
STORE. 



WE come not with a costly store, 
OLord! like them of old, 
The masters of the starry lore, 
From Ophir's shore of gold ; 
No weepings of the incense-tree 

Are with the gifts we bring ; 
No odorous myrrh of Araby 
Blends with our offering. 

But faith and love may bring their best, 

A spirit keenly tried 
By fierce afiiiction's fiery test, 

And seven times purified : 
The fragrant graces of the mind. 

The virtues that delight 
To give their perfume out, will find 

Acceptance in Thy sight. 

9 



130 THE EPIPHANY. 

HAIL, KINGLY JESUS ! 



By the Rev. Dr. A. R. Thompson, pastor of the Reformed Dutch Church (suc- 
cessor of the late Dr. Bethune), New York. Written on Christmas, 1864. Contributed. 



T TAIL, kingly Jesus I to Thy feet 
-^ -*- Our hearts their tribute bring ; 
Not sparkling gold, not odors sweet, 
But love, our offering. 

Such treasures to Thy manger-bed 

The ancient Magi brought. 
When, by the star resplendent led, 

Judaga's King they sought. 

But hearts of humble poverty 

Are fairer in Thine eyes. 
And penitence is more to Thee 

Than costly sacrifice. 

When Thou wert sitting once at meat. 
And kneeling humbly there, 

With tears a sinner bathed Thy feet, 
And wiped them with her hair ; 

As over them she poured perfume 

Amid her tears like rain. 
Till the sweet oder filled the room, 

Thou didst not her disdain. 

And wilt Thou, Master, from our hymn 
Turn scornfully Thine ear? 

Nay : 'mid the songs of seraphim 
Our worship Thou wilt hear. 




CHRIST'S LIFE AND EXAMPLE. 



" He hath done all things well." — Mark vii. 37. 

"I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." — John xiv. 6. 

" Follow Me." — Matt. iv. 19. 

/^ BLESSED JESUS ! who wast tempted, as we are tempted, 
jet without sin, and who, by Thj perfect obedience to the 
will of Thy Heavenly Father, didst fulfil all righteousness, and 
leave us an example : assist us, we beseech Thee, in our infirmity; 
and enable us, by Thy Spirit, so to follow Thy steps, that we may 
daily grow in grace, and be transformed more and more into Thy 
glorious image, to the praise of Thy holy name. Amen. 



'•Thou seemest human and divine. 

The highest, holiest manhood Thou : 

Our wills are ours, we know not how ; 

Our wills are ours, to make them Thine." 

Alfred Tennyson. 

"Jesus, divinest when Thou most art man ! " 




CHRIST'S LIFE AND EXAMPLE. 



HOLY JESUS, FOUNT OF LIGHT! 

{Heiligster Jesuy HeiVgtcngsquelle.^ 



The first two stanzas are freely reproduced, in the metre of the original, from a 
German hymn of Bartholom^us Crasselius (about 1700); the third is added by 
the Ed. The German poem has niiie stanzas (Schaff's G. H. B., No. 103), and is a 
translation from the Dutch of Jodocus von Lodenstein, 1655. A close, but not 
very smooth, version, by Dr. Henry Mills, in Horce Germanicce [ " yiost Holy 
Jesus, Fount unfaihng, Of joy all other joys excelling"), who erroneously attributes 
the original to Gottfiied Arnold. 



TTOLY Jesus, Fount of light ! 

-^ ^ As crystal clear, for ever bright. 
Thou Stream o'erflowing, pure and free ; 
The brightness of the cherubim. 
The glow of burning seraphim. 
Are darkness when compared with Thee. 

Be Thou my pattern bright, 

My study and delight. 
My all in all. 
Oh, teach Thou me, that I may be 
All pure and holy, like to Thee ! 



134 CHRIST S LIFE AND EXAMPLE. 

Humble Jesus ! self-denying, 

And with Thy Father's will complying, 

Yea, even unto death resigned ; 

Let me, Thy humble path pursuing, 

And pride and haughtiness subduing. 

Be guided by Thy gentle mind. 

May I be ever mild 

And humble as a child. 
And docile too ! 
Oh, teach Thou me, that I may be 
Meek and obedient, like Thee ! 

Loving Jesus ! dearest treasure, 
Whose love to man no man can measure. 
Conform me to Thine image bright ; 
Thy Spirit and Thy strength bestowing. 
That I, in every virtue growing. 
May reach in Thee perfection's height. 

Lord, give me from above 

A heart all filled with love 
To God and man ; 
Oh, teach Thou me to die for Thee, 
That I may live and reign with Thee ! 



C 



COME, MY WAY, MY TRUTH, MY LIFE. 1 35 



COME, MY WAY, MY TRUTH, MY LIFE. 



"The Call." Comp. John xiv. 6. By George Herbert: b. at Montgomery 
Castle, Wales, 1593; d. 1632. Rector of Bemerton, near Salisbury; remarkable for 
the beautiful harmony of purity and poetry, goodness and happiness, in his secluded 
pastoral life; generally known as "holy George Herbert." As a poet, he is quaint, 
but pregnant with pious thought, and belongs to the same school as Quarles, Donne, 
Herrick, and Crashaw, of the age of Charles I. 



/^^OME, my Way, my Truth, my Life : 
^"^ Such a Way as gives us breath ; 
Such a Truth as ends all strife ; 
Such a Life as killeth death. 



Come, my Light, my Feast, my Strength 
Such a Light as shows a feast ; 
Such a Feast as mends in length ; 
Such a Strength as makes his guest. 

Come, my Joy, my Love, my Heart : 
Such a Joy as none can move ; 
Such a Love as none can part ; 
Such a Heart as joys in love. 



136 Christ's life and example. 

EARTH HAS NOTHING SWEET OR FAIR. 

{Kei?ie Schonkeii hat die Welt.) 



From the German of Angelus Silesius (Johann Angelus Scheffler), b. at 
Breslau, Silesia, 1624 ; d. 1677 ; author of 205 hymns and poetic proverbs, most of 
which were composed before he joined the Roman-Catholic Church. Several of his 
hymns are among the deepest and most tender in the German language, and breathe 
a glowing love to the Saviour. Of the following poem, we have two excellent Eng- 
lish translations, —one by Catherine Winkworth ("Nothing fair on earth I see, 
But I straightway think of Thee"), and one by Frances Elizabeth Cox (Lond. 
1841). The latter is more literal, and is here given. 



L^ARTH has nothing sweet or fair, 
-'-^ Lovely forms or beauties rare, 
But before my eyes they bring 
Christ, of beauty Source and Spring. 

When the morning paints the skies. 
When the golden sunbeams rise, 
Then my Saviour's form I find 
Brightly imaged on my mind. 

When the day-beams pierce the night, 
Oft I think on Jesu's light. 
Think how bright that light will be. 
Shining through eternity. 

When, as moonlight softly steals. 
Heaven its thousand eyes reveals. 
Then I think : Who made their light 
Is a thousand times more bright. 



EARTH HAS NOTHING SWEET OR FAIR. 1 37 

When I see, in spring-tide gay, 
Fields their varied tints display, 
Wakes the thrilling thought in me. 
What must their Creator be ! 



t 



If I trace the fountain's source, 
Or the brooklet's devious course, 
Straight my thoughts to Jesus mount, 
As the best and purest fount. 

Sweetly sings the nightingale, 
Sweet the flute's soft, plaintive tale ; 
Sweeter than the richest tone 
Is the name of Mary's Son. ^ 

Sweetness fills the air around, 
At the echo's answering sound ; 
But more sweet than echo's fall, 
Is to me the Bridegroom's call. 

Lord of all that's fair to see ! 
Come, reveal Thyself to me ; 
Let me, 'mid Thy radiant light, 
See Thine unveiled glories bright. 



1 This stanza I have borrowed from Miss Winkworth's trans- 
lation. Miss Cox renders it, less happily, — 

" Sweet the song the night-bird sings, 
Sweet the lute, with quivering strings ; 
Far more sweet than every tone 
Are the words ' Maria's Son.' " 



138 Christ's life and example. 

Let Thy Deity profound 
Me in heart and soul surround ; 
From my mind its idols chase, 
Weaned from joys of time and place. 

Come, Lord Jesus ! and dispel 
This dark cloud in which I dwell ; 
Thus to me the power impart. 
To behold Thee as Thou art. 



MY DEAR REDEEMER, AND MY LORD. 



By Isaac Watts, 1674-1748. From his Hymns and Spiritual Songs, 1719. 



"TV /FY dear Redeemer, and my Lord I 
^^ I read my duty in Thy word ; 
But in Thy life the law appears, 
Drawn out in living characters. 

Such was Thy truth, and such Thy zeal, 
Such deference to Thy Father's will. 
Such love and meekness so divine, 
I would transcribe and make them mine. 

Cold mountains and the midnight air 
Witnessed the fervor of Thy prayer ; 
The desert Thy temptations knew. 
Thy conflict, and Thy victory too. 



JESUS, STILL LEAD ON. 

Be Thou my pattern ; make me bear 
More of Thy gracious image here : 
Then God, the Judge, shall own my name 
Among the followers of the Lamb. 



139 



JESUS, STILL LEAD ON. 

{^esu, geh vorafi.') 



Count NiKOLAUs LuDWiG VON ZiNZENDORF, 1721. (Schaff's G. H. B., N<x 
106. ) Translation from the Hymns from the LaTtd of Lttther, Edinb. 1853. 



\ 



TESUS, still lead on, 

^ Till our rest be won ! 
And, although the way be cheerless, 
We will follow, calm and fearless : 

Guide us by Thy hand 

To our Fatherland I 

If the way be drear, 

If the foe be near, 
Let not faithless fears o'ertake us, 
Let not faith and hope forsake us ; 

For, through many a foe. 

To our home we go ! 

When we seek relief 

From a long-felt grief, 
When temptations come alluring. 
Make us patient and enduring : 



n o eJ 


^ 


d 




*) 


t 


140 Christ's life and example. 

Show us that bright shore 
Where we weep no more ! 

Jesus, still lead on, 
Till our rest be won ! 
Heavenly Leader, still direct us, 
Still support, console, protect us, 
Till we safely stand 
In our Fatherland ! 


3 




OH FOR A HEART TO PRAISE MY GOD ! 






Charles Wesley, 1742. 






/^H for a heart to praise my God ! 
^^ A heart from sin set free ! 
A heart that always feels Thy blood, 
So freely spilt for me ! 






A heart resigned, submissive, meek, 
My great Redeemer's throne ! 

Where only Christ is heard to speak. 
Where Jesus reigns alone : 




c 


A humble, lowly, contrite heart, 
Believing, true, and clean ; 

Which neither life nor death can part 
From Him that dwells within : 


> 


c 




"^ 






L 



EVER WOULD I FAIN BE READING. I4I 

A heart in every thought renewed, 

And full of love divine ; 
Perfect and right, and pure and good, 

A copy, Lord, of Thine. 

My heart, Thou knowest, can never rest 

Till Thou create my peace ; 
Till, of my Eden repossest, 

From every sin I cease. 

Fruit of Thy gracious lips, on me 

Bestow that peace unknown ; 
The hidden manna, and the tree 

Of life, and the white stone. 

Thy nature, gracious Lord, impart; 

Come quickly from above ; 
Write Thy new name upon my heart. 

Thy new, best name of Love. 



EVER WOULD I FAIN BE READING. 

{Immer muss ich -vjteder leseti.) 



From the German of Louise Hensel (b. 1796), by Miss C. Winkworth. 



L^VER would I fain be reading, 
"^^ In the ancient holy Book, 
Of m}^ Saviour's gentle pleading, 
Truth in everv word and look. 



142 Christ's life and example. 

How when children came He blessed them, 

Suffered no man to reprove, 
Took them in His arms, and pressed them 

To His heart with words of love. 

How to all the sick and tearful 
Help was ever gladly shown ; 

How He sought the poor and fearful, 
Called them brothers and His own. 

How no contrite soul e'er sought Him, 

And was bidden to depart, 
How with gentle words He taught him, 

Took the death from out his heart. 

Still I read the ancient story. 

And my joy is ever new. 
How for us He left His glory, 

How He still is kind and true. 

How the flock He gently leadeth 
Whom His Father gave Him here ; 

How His arms He widely spreadeth 
To His heart to draw us near. 

Let me kneel, my Lord, before Thee, 
Let my heart in tears o'erflow. 

Melted by Thy love adore Thee, 
Blest in Thee 'mid joy or woe. 



JESUS, I MY CROSS HAVE TAKEN. 1 43 



JESUS, I MY CROSS HAVE TAKEN. 



Rev. Henry Francis Lyte. Bom at Kelso, 1793 ; died at Nice, 1847. 



TESUS, I my cross have taken, 
^ All to leave and follow Thee ; 
Destitute, despised, forsaken. 

Thou from hence my all shalt be. 
Perish every fond ambition. 

All I've sought or hoped or known ; 
Yet how rich is my condition ! 

God and heaven are still my own. 

Let the world despise and leave me ; 

They have left my Saviour too ; 
Human hearts and looks deceive me : 

Thou art not like them, untrue. 
And while Thou shalt smile upon me, 

God of wisdom, love, and might ! 
Foes may hate, and friends may shun me 

Show Thy face and all is bright. 

Go, then, earthly fame and treasure ; 

Come, disaster, scorn and pain : 
In Thy service pain is pleasure ; 

With Thy favor, loss is gain. 



U 



fl 



144 CHRIST S LIFE AND EXAMPLE. 

I have called Thee Abba, Father, 
I have stayed my heart on Thee : 

Storms may howl, and clouds may gather, 
All must work for good to me. 

Man may trouble and distress me, 

'Twill but drive me to Thy breast ; 
Life with trials hard may press me, 

Heaven will bring me sweeter rest. 
Oh, 'tis not in grief to harm me, 

While Thy love is left to me ! 
Oh, 'twere not in joy to charm me. 

Were that joy unmixed with Thee ! 

Take, my soul, thy full salvation ! 

Rise o'er sin and fear and care ; 
Joy to find, in every station. 

Something still to do or bear. 
Think what Spirit dwells within thee, 

What a Father's smile is thine. 
What a Saviour died to win thee ; 

Child of heaven, should'st thou repine? 

Haste, then, on from grace to glory. 

Armed by faith, and winged by prayer ; 
Heaven's eternal day's before thee, 

God's own hand shall guide thee there. 
Soon shall close thy earthly mission. 

Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days ; 
Hope soon change to full fruition. 

Faith to sight, and prayer to praise. 



THOU ART THE WAY; TO THEE ALONE. 1 45 



THOU ART THE WAY; TO THEE 
ALONE. 



George Washington Doane, Bishop of the Prot. Epis. Diocese of New Jersey ; 
died at Burlington, N.J., 1859. "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." — John 
xiv. 6. 



npHOU art the Way ; to Thee alone 

-*- From sin and death we flee ; 
And he who would the Father seek, 
Must seek Him, Lord, by Thee. 

Thou art the Truth ; Thy word alone 

True wisdom can impart ; 
Thou only canst inform the mind, 

And purify the heart. 

Thou art the Life ; the rending tomb 
Proclaims Thy conquering arm ; 

And those who put their trust in Thee 
Nor death nor hell shall harm. 

Thou art the Way, the Truth, the Life ; 

Grant us that Way to know ; 
That Truth to keep, that Life X.o win, 

Whose joys eternal flow. 



146 Christ's life and example. 



BEHOLD, WHERE, IN A MORTAL 
FORM. 



Enfield. From the A ndover Sabb. H. B. 



"DEHOLD, where, in a mortal form, 

Appears each grace divine ; 
The virtues, all in Jesus met. 
With mildest radiance shine. 

To spread the rays of heavenly light, 

To give the mourner joy, 
To preach glad tidings to the poor, 

Was His divine employ. 

'Mid keen reproach and cruel scorn, 

Patient and meek He stood : 
His foes, ungrateful, sought His life; 

He labored for their good. 

In the last hour of deep distress. 

Before His Father's throne. 
With soul resigned. He bowed, and said, 

"Thy will, not mine, be done ! " 



HOW BEAUTEOUS WERE THE MARKS DIVINE ! I47 

Be Christ our pattern and our guide ; 

His image may we bear ; 
Oh, may we tread His holy steps, 

His joy and glory share ! 



HOW BEAUTEOUS WERE THE MARKS 
DIVINE ! 



A. C. CoxE (bom at Mendham, N.J., 1818), Bishop of Western New York, author 
oi Christian Ballads (New York, 1840), and other poems. 



T TOW beauteous were the marks divine, 
-^ -*- That in Thy meekness used to shine, 
That lit Thy lonely pathway, trod 
In wondrous love, O Son of God ! 

Oh ! who like Thee so calm, so bright, 
So pure, so made to live in light? 
Oh ! who like Thee did ever go 
So patient through a world of woe? 

Oh ! who like Thee so humbly bore 
The scorn, the scoffs of men, before? 
So meek, forgiving, godlike, high. 
So glorious in humility? 





^ 


'1 






"^ 


c 


148 Christ's life and example. 

Even death, which sets the prisoner free, 
Was pang and scoff and scorn to Thee ; 
Yet love through all Thy torture glowed, 
And mercy with Thy life-blood flowed. 

Oh, in Thy light be mine to go, 
Illuming all my way of woe ! 
And give me ever on the road 
To trace Thy footsteps, Son of God ! 


u 




THINE HANDMAID, SAVIOUR! CAN 
IT BE? 






William A. Muhlenberg, D.D., founder of St. Luke's Hospital, New York. 
Written, on the words "Come, follow me," for the reception of a "Sister" at St. 
Luke's Hospital, 1859. 






' 1 'HINE Handmaid, Saviour! can it be? 

^ Such honor dost Thou put on me ? 
To wait on Thee, do Thy commands. 
The works once hallowed by Thy hands? 






Daily Thy mercy paths to go. 
Bearing Thy balm for every woe ; 
Thy sick and weary ones to cheer. 
Bid them Thy words of pity hear ; 




C| 


Parting with earth Thy cross to bear, 
Content Thy poverty to share. 
Rich in Thy Love, — Thou blessed Lord, 
This life to me dost Thou accord? 


» 






J 


^ 


^ ^ 


^ 



THOU LORD OF ALL, ON EARTH HAST DWELT. I49 

Oh, marvellous grace, — yea, even so ! 
The call I heard, — 'twas Thine I know, — 
" Come follow me ; " the heavenly voice, 
How could it but constrain my choice ! 

My heart's free choice, yet bound by Thee ; 
Thrice welcome, sweet captivity, 
My soul and all its powers to fill 
With love of Thee and Thy dear will ! 

Lord, give but light to show the way, 
Strength from Thyself to be my stay, 
Grace, always, — grace to feel Thee nigh, — 
Thine Handmaid then, I live and die. 



THOU LORD OF ALL, ON EARTH 
HAST DWELT. 



By Samuel Prideaux Tregelles, LL.D., a learned and devout biblical 
scholar, editor of a Greek Testament from the oldest manuscripts ; born at Wode- 
house Place, near Falmouth, 1813 ; a member of the Plymouth Community. 



nrnOU Lord of all, on earth hast dwelt, 

■^ Rejected and unknown ; 
What bitter grief Thy heart hath felt. 
Endured by Thee alone ! 



150 CHRIST S LIFE AND EXAMPLE. 

But, oh ! how full of truth and grace 
Through all Thou dost appear ! 

And thus with wonder we retrace 
Thy path of sorrow here. 

Thou on the cross didst suffer, too, 
More than man's eye could see ; 

For then the wrath that was our due, 
Was poured, O Lord, on Thee ! 

But Thou art risen ; and now we know 
That Thou, in heaven above, 

For all God's children here below, 
Dost feel a brother's love. 

Oh, may we ever look to Thee 
For needed grace and strength, 

Till we Thy face in glory see, 
And reign with Thee at length ! 

Till then may we, who bear Thy name, 

Thy blest example take, 
And count the world's reproach and shame 

As glory, for Thy sake. 

Since Thou the cup of wrath didst drain, 

None now for us is there ; 
The drops of sorrow that remain, 

Shall we refuse to share? 



TRUSTINGLY, TRUSTINGLY. I51 



TRUSTINGLY, TRUSTINGLY. 



HoRATius BoNAR, D.D. Froiii Hymns of Faith and Hope, Third Series, 1S68 ; 
My Pilgrimage. ' ' 



^RUSTINGLY, trustingly, 
■^ Jesus, to Thee 
Come I : Lord, lovingly 

Come Thou to me ! 
Then shall I lovingly, 
Then shall I joyfully, 

Walk here with Thee. 

Peacefully, peacefully. 

Walk I v^rith Thee ; 
Jesus, my Lord, Thou art 

All, all to me. 
Peace Thou hast left us, 
Thy peace hast given us ; 

So let it be. 

Whom but Thyself, O Lord ! 

Have I above? 
What have I left on earth ? 

Only Thy love ! 
Come then, O Saviour ! come : 
Come then, O Spirit ! come 

Heavenly Dove. 



152 CHRIST S LIFE AND EXAMPLE. 

Happily, happily, 

Pass I along, 
Eager to work for Thee, 

Earnest and strong. 
Life is for service true, 
Life is for battle too ; 

Life is for song. 

Hopefully, hopefully, 

Onward I go, 
Cheerfully, cheerfully, 

Meet I the foe. 
Crowns are awaiting us, 
Glory prepared for us ; 

Joys overflow. 




THE PASSION. 



" Surely He hath bonie our griefs, and carried our sorrows ; yet we did esteem 
Him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgres- 
sions, He was bruised for our iniquities ; the chastisement of our peace was upon Him, 
and with His stripes we are healed." — Isa. Hii. 4, 5. 

" Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might 
bring us to God." — i Pet. iii. 18. 

" Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and has 
made us kings and priests unto God and his Father, — to Him be glory and dominion 
for ever and ever. Amen." — Rev. i. 5, 6. 

"/^ LORD, the only-begotten Son, Jesus Christ! O Lord 
^^ God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father, that takest away 
the sin of the world ! have mercy upon us. Thou that takest 
away the sin of the world, have mercy upon us. Thou that 
takest away the sin of the world, receive our prayer. Thou that 
sittest at the right hand of God the Father, have mercy upon 
us, and grant us Thy peace." Amen. 

O Lord Jesus Christ ! who, by Thy bitter passion and cruci- 
fixion, hast redeemed me from the curse of sin, the power of 
death, and the woe of damnation : most heartily do I thank Thee 
for Thine unspeakable love, for every burden Thou didst bear, 
for every tear Thou didst weep, for every pain Thou didst suf- 
fer, for every conflict Thou didst endure, for every drop of blood 
Thou didst shed, for me, Thine enemy; and I humbly beseech 
Thee to give me grace, that, being dead unto sin, I may live unto 
righteousness all the days of my life, and attain, at last, to the 
glory of the blessed resurrection. Amen. 



THE PASSION. 



SING, MY TONGUE, THE SAVIOUR'S 
BATTLE. 

(Pange^ lingua^ gloriosi prcelium certaminis.^ 



The masterpiece of Venantius Fortunatus, Bishop of Poitiers, in France, about 
600, and one of the finest hymns in the Latin language ("in pulcherrimorum numero 
recensendum," says Daniel). Fortunatus (530-609) was the favorite poet of his age, 
a fidend of St. Gregory of Tours and Queen Rhadegunda, and marks the transition 
from the ancient to the mediseval hymnology. This passion-hymn, like the one that 
follows, found a place in the Roman Breviary, with some alterations. Daniel, I. 
p. 163-165, gives the original and the altered text ; Wackernagel, I. pp. 61, 62, gives 
two forms, one of 10, the other of 11, stanzas, from old MSS. (Trench strangely omits 
the two best productions of this gifted poet.) The Latin is without rhyme, and in the 
measure of the trochaic tetrametre, which was first grouped into stanzas by Fortunatus, 
and which subsequently, with various modifications, became the favorite measure of the 
mediaeval hymn. The translation here given is chiefly from E. Caswall {Lyra 
Catholka, p. 137), supplemented from that of Dr. J. M. Neale {Medieval Hymns 
and Sequences, p. 1-4). Another version by Mrs. Charles, " Spread, my tongue, 
the wondrous story Of the glorious battle far " (Christian Life in Song, p. 133). 



OING, my tongue, the Saviour's battle ; ^ 
^^ Tell His triumphs far and wide ; 
Tell aloud the wondrous story 

1 Caswall has " the Saviour's glorj," following the reading of 
the Roman Breviary, which substitutes '■^ lauream certaminis," 
for the original '•'■ prcelium certaminis." Thomas Aquinas bor- 
rowed from Fortunatus a part of the first line of his famous 
eucharistic hymn : — 

" Pange, lingua, gloriosi corporis mysterium." 



B 



156 THE PASSION. 

Of His body crucified, 
How upon the cross a victim, 
Vanquishing in death, He died. 

Eating of the Tree forbidden, 
Man had sunk in Satan's snare. 

When our pitying Creator 

Did this second Tree prepare. 

Destined, many ages later. 
That first evil to repair. 

Such the order God appointed, 
When for sin He would atone. 

To the serpent thus opposing 

Schemes yet deeper than his own ; 

Thence the remedy procuring. 

Whence the fatal wound had come. 

So, when now at length the fulness 
Of the time foretold drew nigh, 

Then the Son, the world's Creator, 
Left His Father's throne on high. 

From a virgin's womb appearing, 
Clothed in our mortality. 

All within a lowly manger, 
Lo, a tender babe He lies ! 

See His gentle Virgin-mother 
Lull to sleep His infant cries ! 

While the limbs of God Incarnate 
Round with swathing bands she ties. 



c 



SING, MY TONGUE, THE SAVIOUR's BATTLE. I57 

Thus did Christ to perfect manhood 

In our mortal flesh attain ; 
Then of His free choice He goeth 

To a death of bitter pain ; 
He, the Lamb upon the altar 

Of the cross, for us was slain. 

Lo, with gall His thirst He quenches ! 

See the thorns upon His brow ; 
Nails His hands and feet are rending ; 

See, His side is open now ! 
Whence, to cleanse the whole creation, 

Streams of blood and water flow. 

Faithful Cross ! above all other, 

One and only noble Tree ! 
None in foliage, none in blossom, 

None in fruit thy peers may be ; 
Sweetest wood and sweetest iron. 

Sweetest weight is hung on thee ! ^ 

1 This and the two following stanzas are strangely omitted by 
Caswall (in the Lyra Catkolica, and in another copy before me), 
and have been supplemented from Neale's version. The eighth 
stanza is the finest in the poem. In the second recension given 
by Wackernagel (No. 79), from Munich and other MSS., it opens 
the hymn. The Latin is a gem of rare beauty, although not free 
from a taint of superstition : — 

" Crux fidelis, inter omnes arbor una nobilis ! 
Nulla talem silva profert fronde, flore, germine : 
Dulce lignum, dulces clavos, duke pondus sustinens." 

In the Roman breviary, " Dulce ferrum, dulce lignum, dulce 



158 THE PASSION. 

Bend thy boughs, O Tree of Glory ! 

Thy relaxing sinews bend ; 
For a while the ancient rigor, 

That thy birth bestowed, suspend ; 
And the King of heavenly beauty 

On thy bosom gently tend. 

Thou alone wast counted worthy 
This world's ransom to uphold ; 

For a shipwrecked race preparing 
Harbor, like the ark of old : 

With the sacred blood anointed, 
From the smitten Lamb that rolled. 

When, O Judge of this world ! coming 

In Thy glory all divine, 
Thou shalt bid Thy Cross's trophy 

Bright above the stars to shine ; 
Be the Light and the Salvation 

Of the people that are Thine ! ^ 

Blessing, honor everlasting, 
To the immortal Deity ; 



pondus sustinent." Daniel reads, " dulci clavo;" Wackernagel 
twice, " dulces clavos." Mrs. Charles translates thus : — 

" Faithful cross ! of all earth's produce only rich and noble tree ; 
No such flower or leaf or fruitage we in all the world can see : 
Sweet to us thy wood and nails, for sweetest weight is hung on thee." 

1 This verse is no part of the original, but is added in some 
copies, and translated by Neale. 



b 



THE ROYAL BANNERS FORWARD GO. 1 59 

To the Father, Son, and Spirit, 

Equal praises ever be ; 
Glory through the earth and heaven 

To the blessed Trinity ! 



THE ROYAL BANNERS FORWARD GO. 

(^Vextlla Regis prodeunt.^ 



From the Latin of Venantius Fortunatus (died 609), by J. M. Neale {Me- 
dueval Hymns, p. 6), with slight alterations. The original (in Daniel, I. p. 160, who 
gives also the variations of the Roman Breviarj', and Wackernagel, I. p. 63) is sung, 
in the Roman Church, on Good Friday, during the procession in which the conse- 
crated host is carried to the altar. Neale calls it "one of the grandest in the treasury 
of the Latin Church ; " but it does not reach the depth of Bernard's or Gerhardt's pas- 
sion-hymns. The second stanza is omitted by Neale, as it is also in the Roman 
Breviary. Another English translation by Edward Caswall: "Forth comes the 
standard of the King" (in the Lyra Catkolica); and one by Mrs. Charles: "The 
banner of the King goes forth" {Christian Life in Song, p. 131). 



"^ I ^HE Royal Banners forward go, 

-*- The Cross shines forth in mystic glow 
Where He in flesh, our flesh Who made. 
Our sentence bore, our ransom paid. 

There, whilst He hung, His sacred side 
By soldier's spear was opened wide. 
To cleanse us in the precious flood 
Of water mingled with His blood. 

Fulfilled is all that David told 
In true prophetic song of old. 



l6o THE PASSION. 

How God the nation's King should be, 
For God is reigning from the Tree.^ 

O Tree of Glory, Tree most fair ! 
Ordained those Holy Limbs to bear ; 
How bright in purple robe it stood. 
The purple of a Saviour's blood ! 

Upon its arms, so widely flung. 
The weight of this world's ransom hung : 
The ransom He alone could pay. 
Despoiling Satan of his prey. 

With fragrance dropping from each bough 
Sweeter than sweetest nectar Thou ; 
Decked with the fruit of peace and praise. 
And glorious with triumphal lays. 

Hail, Altar ! hail, O Victim ! Thee 
Decks now Thy Passion's victory ; 



1 Ps. xcvi. lo, which reads, in the old Latin version, " Tell it 
out among the heathen, that the Lord reigneth from the Tree" 
Justin Martyr accuses the Jews, that thej have erased the words 
" a ligno," uTTo ^vXov, which are wanting in the original and in the 
Septuagint. See the note in Daniel, I. p. 162. Mrs. Charles 
renders the verse thus : — 

" The truth that David learned to sing, 
Its deep fulfilment here attains : 
'Tell all the earth, the Lord is King!' 
Lo, from the cross, a King He reigns ! " 



FORTH FLAMES THE STANDARD OF OUR KING. l6l 

Where life for sinners death endured, 
And life, by death, for man procured.^ 

To Thee, Eternal Three in One, 
Let homage meet by all be done : 
As by the Cross Thou dost restore. 
So rule and guide us evermore. 



FORTH FLAMES THE STANDARD OF 
OUR KING. 



The " Vexilla Regis," in an abridged translation, by Bishop Williams, of Con- 
necticut (from Rider's Lyra Americana, 1865). 



L^ORTH flames the standard of our King. 
•^ Bright gleams the mystic sign, 
When life bore death of suffering. 
And death wrought life divine. 



1 In the Roman Breviary, the last two verses of Fortunatus, 
which seem to reflect upon the cross itself, the glory of the vic- 
tor}^ won upon it, are replaced by the following one, which shows 
the gradual change of the original contemplation of the cross, 
as the mere instrument of the humiliation and torture of our 
Lord, into the superstitious worship of the same : — 

" O Cross ! our only hope, all hail ! 
This holy Passion-tide, avail 
To give fresh merit to the saint, 
And pardon to the penitent." 
II 



l62 



THE PASSION. 



The stabs of the accursed spear 
Brought forth the heahng flood, 

To cleanse sin's stains so dark and drear, 
With water and with blood. 

Fulfilled is each prophetic word, 

Each faith-inspiring strain, 
Telling the nations of that Lord, 

Who by the Cross should reign. 

Hail, Cross of Christ ! man's only hope ; 

While now we gaze and pray, 
Dear Lord, th' exhaustless fountains ope, 

And wash our sins away. 



I 



HAIL, THOU HEAD ! SO BRUISED AND 
WOUNDED. 

(jSalve^ Ca-put crueniatum.) 



St. Bernard, of Clairvaux, the best and greatest man of his age, d. 1153- See 
Wackf.rnagel, I. p. 124; Daniel, I. p. 232. Translated by Mrs. Charles 
(Christiaft Life in Song, p. 159). The original, in fifty lines, in five stanzas, ad- 
dressed to the face of Christ ("Ad faciem Christi in cruce pendentis"), is the best of 
Bernard's seven passion-hymns, and has been happily reproduced and much improved 
by Gerhardt in German, by Alexander and others in English. 



I 



T TAIL, thou Head ! so bruised and wounded, 
-^ -^ With the crown of thorns surrounded ; 
Smitten with the mocking reed. 
Wounds which may not cease to bleed 



HAIL, THOU HEAD ! SO BRUISED AND WOUNDED. 163 

Trickling faint and slow. 
Hail ! from whose most blessed brow 
None can wipe the blood-drops now ; 
All the flower of life has fled, 
Mortal paleness there instead ; 
Thou, before whose presence dread 

Angels trembling bow. 

All Thy vigor and Thy life 
Fading in this bitter strife ; 
Death his stamp on Thee has set, 
Hollow and emaciate, 

Faint and drooping there. 
Thou this agony and scorn 
Hast for me, a sinner, borne, 
Me, unworthy, all for me ! 
With those signs of love on Thee, 

Glorious Face, appear ! 

Yet, in this Thine agony. 
Faithful Shepherd, think of me ; 
From whose lips of love divine 
Sweetest draughts of life are mine. 

Purest honey flows. 
All unworthy of Thy thought, 
Guilty, yet reject me not; 
Unto me Thy head incline, 
Let that dying head of Thine 

In mine arms repose ! 









•^ 




#^ 


r» 








~^ 


c 


164 THE PASSION. 

Let me true communion know 
With Thee in Thy sacred woe, 
Counting all beside but dross, 
Dying with Thee on Thy Cross : 

'Neath it will I die ! 
Thanks to Thee with every breath, 
Jesus, for Thy bitter death ; 
Grant Thy guilty one this prayer. 
When my dying hour is near. 

Gracious God, be nigh ! 

When my dying hour must be. 
Be not absent then from me ; 
In that dreadful hour, I pray, 
Jesus, come without delay : 

See and set me free ! 
When Thou biddest me depart. 
Whom I cleave to with my heart, 
Lover of my soul, be near; 
With Thy saving Cross appear, 

Shew Thyself to me ! 




u 


n 






> 




— ^ • 


"^ 




— d 


Q 


" "■ 


^ 




I 


J 



JESUS' HOLY CROSS AND DYING. 165 



JESUS' HOLY CROSS AND DYING. 

{Recordare sancice crticisi) 



From the Latin of John Bonaventura, a celebrated scholastic and mystic di\4ne 
of the Franciscan order, professor of theology in Paris, called the " Seraphic Doctoi ; " 
died at Lyons, 1274. This " Laudismus de S. Cruce" is his best poem. Daniel, 
IL pp. loi, 102. (Trench omits it, but gives two other passion-hj'mns of Bonav., 
pp. 143-147.) The origiiial has fifteen stanzas, the last bearing a strong resemblance 
to the second last of the " Stabat Mater Dolorosa." Translated by Dr. James W. 
Alexander, of New York (d. 1S59). Another English version by Dr. H. Har- 
BAUGH, in the Mercersburg Review, 1858, p. 4S1 ("!Make the cross your medita- 
tion " ) ; a German version by Rambach in Schaff's G. H. B., No. 119. 



TESUS' holy Cross and dying 
^ O remember ! ever eyeing 

Endless pleasure's pathway here ; 
At the Cross thy mindful station 
Keep, and still in meditation 

All unsated persevere. 

When thou toilest, when thou sleepest, 
When thou smilest, when thou weepest, 

Or in mirth, or woe, hast part ; 
When thou comest, when thou goest, 
Grief or consolation showest, — 

Hold the Cross within thy heart. 

'Tis the Cross, when comforts languish, 
In the heaviest hour of anguish, 
Makes the broken spirit whole ; 



l66 THE PASSION. 

When the pains are most tormenting, 
Sweetly here the heart relenting 
Finds the refuge of the soul. 

Christ's Cross is the gate of heaven, 
Trust to all disciples given, 

Who have conquered all their foes ; 
Christ's Cross is the people's healing. 
Heavenly goodness o'er it stealing 

In a stream of wonders flows. 

'Tis the cure of soul-diseases, 

Truth that guides, and light that pleases, 

Sweetness in the heart's distress ; 
Life of souls in heavenly pleasure, 
And of raptured saints the treasure, 

Ornament and blissfulness. 

Jesus' Cross is virtue's mirror. 
Guide to safety out of error, 

True believers' single rest ; 
Crown of Pilgrims unto heaven. 
Solace to the weary given. 

Longed for by the humble breast. 

Jesus' Cross, the Tree once scorned. 
All with crimson drops adorned, 

Laden hangs with rich supplies ; 
These the souls from death are leading, 
Who, with heavenly spirits feeding. 

Taste the manna of the skies. 



o'erwhelmed in depths of woe. 167 

Crucified ! Th}' strength supplying. 
Let me, till my day of dying, 

Gaze upon Thy dying face ! 
Yea, Thy deepest wounds desiring. 
Thee, though on the Cross expiring, 

Ever pant I to embrace. 



O'ERWHELMED IN DEPTHS OF WOE. 

{Scevo dolorum tiirbijie.) 



From the Latin, by Edward Caswall {Lyra Catkolica, 1848). 



/^'ERWHELMED in depths of woe, 
^-^ Upon the tree of scorn, 
Hangs the Redeemer of mankind, 
With racking anguish torn. 

See ! how the nails those hands 
And feet so tender rend ! 
See ! down His face, and neck, and breast. 
His sacred blood descend. 

Hark ! with what awful cry 
His spirit takes its flight ; 
That cry, — it pierced His Mother's heart. 
And whelmed her soul in night. 



i68 



THE PASSION. 



Earth hears, and to its base 
Rocks wildly to and fro ; 
Tombs burst; seas, rivers, mountains quake 
The veil is rent in two. 

The sun withdraws his light ; 
The midday heavens grow pale ; 
The moon, the stars, the universe, 
Their Maker's death bewail. 

Shall man alone be mute? 
Come, youth and hoary hairs ! 
Come, rich and poor ! come, all mankind ! 
And bathe those feet in tears. 

Come ! fall before His Cross, 
Who shed for us His blood ; 
Who died the victim of pure love, 
To make us sons of God. 



Jesu, all praise to Thee, 
Our joy and endless rest ! 
Be Thou our guide while pilgrims here, 
Our crown amid the blest. 



cB 



AT THE CROSS HER STATION KEEPING. 1 69 



AT THE 



CROSS HER 
KEEPING. 



STATION 



{Slabat Mater Dolorosa.^ 



From the Latin of Jacopone or Jacobus de B^edictis, a Franciscan monk 
(d. 1306). The " Stabat Mater," as it is familiarly called, or, better, the " Mater Do- 
lorosa," Mary by the Cross of Calvary (to distinguish it from its recently discovered 
companion-hymn, the " Mater Speciosa," or Mary by the cradle of Bethlehem). It is 
the most pathetic, as the " Dies Irae " is the most sublime, hj-mn of the middle ages, 
and occupies the second rank in Latin hymnology. Suggested by the incident related 
by St. John xix. 25 (" Stabat juxta crucem mater ejus"), and the prophecy of Simeon, 
Luke ii. 35, it describes, with overpowering effect, the piercing agony of Mary at the 
cross, and the burning desire to be identified with her, by sympathy, in the intensity of 
her grief It furnished the text for some of the noblest musical compositions of Pales- 
trina, Pergolesi, Haydn, and others. Unfortunately, hke the "Mater Speciosa," it is 
disfigured by Mariolatry. The objectionable stanzas, which contain a prayer to Mary, 
have been here omitted. For the original, in ten stanzas, see VVackernagel, I. 
136, 162 ; MoNE, II. 147-154: Daniel, II. 133. Many German, and .several English, 
translations (by Lord Lindsay, Caswall, Coles, Benedict, &c.). The soft, sad melody 
of its verse is untranslatable. Comp. Lisco, Stabat Mater, Berlin, 1843 (with fifty-- 
three German, and several Dutch, translations) ; Ozanam, Les Po'ctes Frattciscams 
en Italie au troisicme Steele, Paris, 1852 ; and my article on the two Stabat Maters in 
the Hours at HoDte for May, 1867, pp. 50-58. The best Protestant companion- 
hymn of the Stabat Mater is Mrs. H. Beecher Stowe's " O wondrous mother ! " 
but too long for this Collection. 



A T the cross her station keeping, 
•^ -^ Stood the mournful Mother weeping, 

Where He hung, her Son and Lord ; 
For her soul, of joy bereaved, 
Bowed with anguish, deeply grieved, 

Felt the sharp and piercing sword. 

Oh, how sad and sore distressed 
Now was she, that Mother blessed 
Of the sole-begotten One ; 



170 



THE PASSION. 



Deep the woe of her affliction 
When she saw the Crucifixion ^ 
Of her ever-glorious Son. 

Who, on Christ's dear Mother gazing, 
Pierced by anguish so amazing, 

Born of woman, would not weep? 
Who, on Christ's dear Mother thinking. 
Such a cup of sorrow drinking. 

Would not share her sorrows deep? 

For His people's sins chastised 
She beheld her Son despised, 

Scourged, and crowned with thorns entwined ; 
Saw Him then from judgment taken, 
And in death by all forsaken. 

Till His Spirit He resigned. 

Jesu, may such deep devotion 
Stir in me the same emotion. 

Fount of love, Redeemer kind ! 
That my heart, fresh ardor gaining, 
And a purer love attaining. 

May with Thee acceptance find. 

1 It is difficult to render the musical quadruplication of the 
double rhymes in the Latin : — 

Quae moerebat et dolebat, 
Et tremebat, cum videbat. 
" Who stood grieving, sighs upheaving, 
Spirit-reaving, bosom-cleaving ; " 

or (as Dr. Coles has it) : — 

"Trembling, grieving, bosom-heaving; 
While perceiving, scarce believing," &c. 



i 



WHAT LAWS, MY BLESSED SAVIOUR? I7I 



WHAT LAWS, MY BLESSED SAVIOUR? 

(^Herzliebster Jesu^ ivas hast Du verbrochen ?) 



JoHANN Heermann, 1630 (Schaff's G. H. B., No. 108). Translated by F. E. 
Cox, 1 841. Based upon the seventh Meditation of St. Augustine (d. 430). Comp. 
Mark xv. 14, " What evil hath He done? " and Isa. liii. 5, " He was wounded for our 
transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities." Another excellent translation, by C. 
WiNKWORTH, "Alas ! dear Lord, what evil hast Thou done?" (Lyra Germ., I. p. 77). 



TT 7HAT laws, my blessed Saviour, hast Thou 

^ ^ broken, 

That so severe a sentence should be spoken? 
How hast Thou 'gainst Thy Father's will contended, 
In what offended? 

With scourges, blows, and spitting, they reviled 

Thee : 
They crowned Thy brow with thorns, while King 

they styled Thee ; 
When, faint with pains. Thy tortured body suffered, 
Then gall they offered. 

Say ! wherefore thus by woes wast Thou sur- 
rounded ? 
Ah ! Lord, for my transgressions Thou wast wounded : 
God took the guilt from me, who should have paid it ; 
On Thee He laid it. 



172 



THE PASSION, 



How strange and marvellous was this correction ! 
Falls the good Shepherd in His sheep's protection ; 
The servants' debt behold the Master paying, 
For them obeying. 

The righteous dies, who walked with God true- 
hearted : 
The sinner lives, who has from God departed ; 
By man came death, yet man its fetters breaketh ; 
God it o'ertaketh. 

Shame and iniquity had whelmed me over : 
From head to foot no good couldst Thou discover ; 
For this in hell should I, with deep lamenting, 
Be aye repenting. 

But oh ! the depth of love beyond comparing. 
That brought Thee down from heaven, our burden 

bearing ! 
I taste all peace and joy that life can offer, 
Whilst Thou must suffer ! 



Eternal King ! in power and love excelling. 

Fain would my heart and mouth Thy praise be 

telling ; 
But how can man's weak powers at all come nigh 
Thee, 
How magnify Thee? 



WHAT LAWS, MY BLESSED SAVIOUR? 1 73 

Such wondrous love would baffle my endeavor 
To find its equal, should I strive for ever : 
How should my works, could I in all obey Thee, 
Ever repay Thee ! 

Yet this shall please Thee, if devoutly trying 
To keep Thy laws, mine own wrong will denying, 
I watch my heart, lest sin again ensnare it 
And from Thee tear it. 

But since I have not strength to flee temptation. 
To crucify each sinful inclination, 
Oh ! let Thy Spirit, grace, and strength provide 
me, 
And gently guide me. 

Then shall I see Thy grace, and duly prize it. 
For Thee renounce the world, for Thee despise it ; 
Then of my life Thy laws shall be the measure. 
Thy will my pleasure. 

For Thee, my God, I'll bear all griefs and losses : 
No persecution, no disgrace or crosses. 
No pains of death or tortures e'er shall move me, 
Howe'er they prove me. 

This, though at little value Thou dost set it. 
Yet Thou, O gracious Lord I wilt not forget it ; 
E'en this Thou wilt accept with grace and favor. 
My blessed Saviour. 



174 ^^^ PASSION. 

And when, O Christ ! before Thy throne so glorious, 
Upon my head is placed the crown victorious, 
Thy praise I will, while heaven's full choir is ring- 
ing, 
Be ever singing. 



O WORLD! BEHOLD UPON THE 
TREE. 

(O IVel^, siek hier dein Leben.') 



From the German of Paul Gerhardt (1653), by C. Winkwokth [Lyra Gertn.^ 
II. p. 52; ScHAFF, No. 113). 

r\ WORLD ! behold upon the tree 
^^ Thy Life is hanging now for thee. 

Thy Saviour yields His dying breath ; 
The mighty Prince of glory now 
For thee doth unresisting bow 

To cruel stripes, to scorn and death. 

Draw near, O world ! and mark Him well ; 
Behold the drops of blood that tell 

How sore His conflict with the foe : 
And hark ! how from that noble heart 
Sigh after sigh doth slowly start. 

From depths of yet unfathomed woe. 



O WORLD ! BEHOLD UPON THE TREE. 1 75 

Alas ! my Saviour, who could dare 
Bid Thee such bitter anguish bear, 

What evil heart entreat Thee thus ? 
For Thou art good, hast wronged none, 
As we and ours too oft have done : 

Thou hast not sinned, dear Lord, like us. 

I and my sins, that number more 
Than yonder sands upon the shore. 

Have brought to pass this agony. 
'Tis I have caused the floods of woe 
That now Thy dying soul o'erflow. 

And those sad hearts that watch by Thee. 

'Tis I to whom these pains belong, 
'Tis I should suffer for my wrong, 

Bound hand and foot in heavy chains ; 
Thy scourge, Thy fetters, whatsoe'er 
Thou bearest, 'tis my soul should bear. 

For she hath well deserved such pains. 

Yet Thou dost even for my sake 
On Thee, in love, the burdens take. 

That weighed my spirit to the ground. 
Yes : Thou art made a curse for me, 
That I might yet be blest through Thee : 

My healing in Thy wounds is found. 

To save me from the monster's power, 
The Death that all things would devour, 



fl 



176 THE PASSION. 

Thyself into his jaws dost leap : 
My death Thou takest thus away, 
And buriest in Thy grave for aye ; 

O love most strangely true and deep ! 

From henceforth there is nought of mine 
But I would seek to make it Thine, 

Since all myself to Thee I owe. 
Whate'er my utmost powers can do, 
To Thee to render service true. 

Here at Thy feet I lay it low. 

Ah ! little have I, Lord, to give. 
So poor, so base the life I live ; 

But yet, till soul and body part. 
This one thing I will do for Thee, — 
The woe, the death endured for me, 

I'll cherish in my inmost heart. 

Thy cross shall be before my sight. 
My hope, my joy by day and night, 

Whate'er I do, where'er I rove ; 
And, gazing, I will gather thence 
The form of spotless innocence. 

The seal of faultless truth and love. 

And from Thy sorrows will I learn 
How fiercely doth God's anger burn, 
How terribly His thunders roll ; 



BEHOLD UPON THE TREE. I77 

How sorely this our loving God 
Can smite with His avenging rod, 

How deep His floods o'erwhelm the soul. 

And I will study to adorn 

My heart with meekness under scorn, 

With gentle patience in distress ; 
With faithful love that 3'earning cleaves 
To those o'er whom to death it grieves, 

Whose sins its very soul oppress. 

When evil tongues with stinging blame 
Would cast dishonor on my name, 

I'll curb the passions that upstart ; 
And take injustice patiently. 
And pardon, as Thou pardon'st me, 

With an ungrudging generous heart. 

And I will nail me to Thy cross, 
And learn to count all things but dross 

Wherein the flesh doth pleasure take : 
Whate'er is hateful in Thine ej^es. 
With all the strength that in me lies, 

Will I cast from me and forsake. 

Thy heavy groans. Thy bitter sighs. 
The tears that from Thy dying eyes 

Were shed when Thou wast sore oppressed, 



178 



THE PASSION. 



Shall be with me, when at the last 
Myself on Thee I wholly cast, 
And enter with Thee into rest. 



O SACRED HEAD! NOW WOUNDED, 

{O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden.^ 



By Paul Gerhardt, 1656 (Schaff, No. 109), on the basis of St. Bernard's 
"Salve, caput cruentatum," 1153 (Daniel, I. 232; Wackernagel, I. 124, in five 
stanzas, often lines each : comp. the version on p. 162). Both the Latin of the Catholic 
monk and the German of the Lutheran pastor are conceived in the spirit of deep 
repentance, and glowing gratitude to Christ, who "was wounded for our transgres- 
sions, and bruised for our iniquities." Faithfully reproduced by Dr. James W. Alex- 
ander, a Presbyterian clergyman of New York (d. 1859), for Schaff's Kirchen- 
freund, 1849, ^"^ since introduced, with abridgments and changes, into several Ameri- 
can hymn-books. — This classical hymn has shown an imperishable vitality in passing 
from the Latin into the German, and from the German into the English, and pro- 
claiming in three tongues, and in the name of three confessions, — the Catholic, the 
Lutheran, and the Reformed, — with equal effect, the dying love of our Saviour, and 
our boundless indebtedness to him. Other English versions in Moravian and Metho- 
dist H. Bs. (" O head so full of bruises ! "), by C. Winkworth, (" O wounded Head ! 
must Thou endure?") and by Massie (Hymns Ancient and Modern, No. 97). 



r\ SACRED head ! now wounded, 

^^ With grief and shame weighed down, 

Now scornfully surrounded 

With thorns. Thy only crown ; 
O sacred Head ! what glory. 

What bliss, till now was Thine ! 
Yet, though despised and gory, 

I joy to call Thee mine. 

O noblest brow, and dearest ! 
In other days the world 



O SACRED HEAD ! NOW WOUNDED. 1 79 

All feared when Thou appearedst : 
What shame on Thee is hurled ! 

How art Thou pale with anguish, 
With sore abuse and scorn ; 

How does that visage languish, 
Which once was bright as morn ! 

The blushes late residing 

Upon that holy cheek, 
The roses once abiding 

Upon those lips so meek, 
Alas ! they have departed ; 

Wan Death has rifled all ! 
For weak and broken-hearted, 

I see Thy body fall. 

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered, 

Was all for sinners' gain : 
Mine, mine, was the transgression, 

But Thine the deadly pain. 
Lo ! here I fall, my Saviour : 
. 'Tis I deserve Thy place ; 
Look on me with Thy favor, 

Vouchsafe to me Thy grace. 

Receive me, my Redeemer: 
My Shepherd, make me Thine ; 

Of every good the fountain, 
Thou art the spring of mine. 



l8o THE PASSION. 

Thy lips with love distilling, 
And milk of truth sincere, 

With heaven's bliss are filling 
The soul that trembles here. 

Beside Thee, Lord, I've taken 

My place — forbid me not ! 
Hence will I ne'er be shaken. 

Though Thou to death be brought, 
If pain's last paleness hold Thee, 

In agony opprest. 
Then, then, will I enfold Thee 

Within this arm and breast ! 

The joy can ne'er be spoken, 

Above all joys beside. 
When in Thy body broken 

I thus with safety hide. 
My Lord of life, desiring 

Thy glory now to see. 
Beside the cross expiring, 

I'd breathe my soul to Thee. 

What language shall I borrow 
To thank Thee, dearest Friend, 

For this, Thy dying sorrow. 
Thy pity without end I 

O make me Thine for ever : 
And should I fainting be, 



O SACRED HEAD ! NOW WOUNDED. l8l 

Lord, let me never, never 
Outlive my love to Thee. 

And when I am departing, 

O part not Thou from me ! 
When mortal pangs are darting. 

Come, Lord, and set me free ! 
And when my heart must languish 

Amidst the final throe. 
Release me from mine anguish 

By Thine own pain and woe ! ^ 

Be near me when I'm dying. 

Oh ! show Thy cross to me ; 
And for my succor flying. 

Come, Lord, and set me free ! 
These eyes new faith receiving 

From Jesus shall not move ; 
For he, who dies believing, 

Dies safely through Thy love. 

. 1 This verse, which is admirably rendered from the German, — 

" Wann ich einmal soil scheiden 
So scheide nicht von mir," &c., — 

is a gem, and well worthy to be the last susfiriwn of a dying Chris- 
tian. In several American collections it is arbitrarily changed 
or omitted altogether. The sainted Dr. Alexander, in transmit- 
ting to me his translation from Princeton, in 1849, gave me a 
touching account of a poor German laborer who, on his death-bed 
in a foreign land, found his last strength and comfort in this 
verse, which he had committed to memory, in early youth, in his 
fatherland. 



6 



c 



182 THE PASSION. 



O SACRED HEAD, SURROUNDED. 

(O Haupt voll Blut tmd Wnnden.) 



Another version of Gerhardt's hymn, abridged. From Hyjmis Ancient and 
Modern, No. 97. 



r\ SACRED Head, surrounded 
^^ By crown of piercing thorn ! 

bleeding Head, so wounded. 
Reviled, and put to scorn ! 

Death's pallid hue comes o'er Thee, 
The glow of life decays, 

Yet angel-hosts adore Thee, 
And tremble as they gaze. 

1 see Thy strength and vigor 

All fading in the strife, 
And death with cruel rigor 

Bereaving Thee of life ; 
O agony and dying ! 

O love to sinners free ! 
Jesu, all grace supplying, 

O turn Thy Face on me ! 

In this Thy bitter passion. 
Good Shepherd, think of me, 



CHRIST, THE LIFE OF ALL THE LIVING. 1 83 

With Thy most sweet compassion, 

Unworthy though I be : 
Beneath Thy Cross abiding, 

For ever would I rest ; 
In Thy dear love confiding, 

And with Thy presence blest. 



CHRIST, THE LIFE OF ALL THE LIVING. 

{yesti, mehies Lehens Leben') 



From the German of Ernst Christoph Homburg, 1659 : " Jesu, meines Lebens 
Leben, Jesu, meines Todes Tod" (Schaff, No. 122; Choral Book for E^igland, 
1862). 



/^HRIST, the Life of all the living, 
^^ Christ, the Death of death, our foe. 
Who Thyself for me once giving 
To the darkest depths of woe, 
Patiently didst yield Thy breath 
But to save my soul from death ; 
Thousand, thousand thanks shall be. 
Blessed Jesus, unto Thee. 

Thou, ah. Thou, hast taken on Thee 

Bitter strokes, a cruel rod ; 
Pain and scorn were heaped upon Thee, 

O Thou sinless Son of God ! 



i 



184 THE PASSION. 

Only thus for me to win 
Rescue from the bonds of sin ; 
Thousand, thousand thanks shall be, 
Blessed Jesus, unto Thee. 

Thou didst bear the smiting only 
That it might not fall on me ; 

Stoodest falsely charged and lonely, 
That I might be safe and free ; 
Comfortless, that I might know 
Comfort from Thy boundless woe ; 
Thousand, thousand thanks shall be, 
Blessed Jesus, unto Thee. 

Then for all that wrought our pardon, 
For Thy sorrows deep and sore. 

For Thine anguish in the garden, 
I will thank Thee evermore ; 
Thank Thee with my latest breath 
For Thy sad and cruel death ; 
For that last and bitter cry, 
Praise Thee evermore on high. 



^ 



THOU HOLIEST LOVE, WHOM MOST I LOVE. 1 85 



THOU HOLIEST LOVE, WHOM MOST 
I LOVE. 

{O Da Liebe meifier Liebe.^ 



From the Gennan by an anonymous author, first published in Fkeylinghausen's 
Gesangbuch, Halle, 1704 (Schaff, No. 124). Translated by Catherine Wink- 
worth (who, with many others, erroneously attributes this hymn to Angelus Silesius). 



'THHOU Holiest Love, whom most I love, 

Who art my longed-for only bliss, 
Whom tenderest pity erst did move 

.To fathom woe and death's abyss ; 
Thou who didst suffer for my good. 

And die my guilty debts to pay, 
Thou Lamb of God, whose precious blood 

Can take a world's misdeeds away ! 

Thou who didst bear the agony 

That made e'en Thy strong spirit quail, 
Yet ever yearnest still for me 

With longing love that ne'er shall fail, — 
'Twas Thou wast willing, Thou alone. 

To bear the righteous wrath of God ; 
Thy death hath stilled it, else had none 

Found shelter from its awful load. 



fi 



l86 THE PASSION. 

O Love ! who with unflinching heart 

Didst bear all worst disgrace and shame 
O Love I who 'mid the keenest smart 

Of dying pangs wert still the same ; 
Who didst Thy changeless virtue prove 

E'en with Thy latest parting breath, 
And spakest words of gentlest love 

When soul and body sank in death ! 

O Love ! through sorrows manifold 

Hast Thou betrothed me as a bride, 
By ceaseless gifts, by love untold. 

Hast bound me ever to Thy side. 
Oh, let the weary ache, the smart. 

Of life's long tale of pain and loss, 
Be gently stilled within my heart 

At thought of Thee and of Thy cross ! 

Love ! who gav'st Thy life for me. 
And won an everlasting good 

Through Thy sore anguish on the tree, 
I ever think upon Thy blood ; 

1 ever thank Thy sacred wounds, 

Thou wounded Love, Thou Holiest ! 
But most when life is near its bounds. 
And in Thy bosom safe I rest. 

O Love ! who unto death hast grieved 
For this cold heart, unworth}^ Thine, 







WHEN I SURVEY THE WONDROUS CROSS. 1 87 

Whom the cold grave and death received, 
I thank Thee for that grief divine. 

I give Thee thanks that Thou didst die 
To win eternal life for me, 

To bring salvation from on high : 

Oh, draw me up through love to Thee ! 



WHEN I SURVEY THE WONDROUS 
CROSS. 



Dr. Isaac Watts, 1709. Glorying in the cross. Gal. vi. 14. One of the noblest 
hymns in the Enghsh or any other language, and truly classical in expression. The 
fourth stanza is omitted in most hymn-books. 



TT 7HEN I survey the wondrous cross 

' ^ On which the Prince of glory died, 
My richest gain I count but loss, 
And pour contempt on all my pride. 

Forbid it. Lord, that I should boast. 
Save in the death of Christ, my God ! 
All the vain things that charm me most, 
I sacrifice them to His blood. 

See, from His head, His hands. His feet, 
Sorrow and love flow mingled down ! 
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet? 
Or thorns compose so rich a crown? 



1 88 THE PASSION. 

His dying crimson, like a robe, 
Spreads o'er His body on the tree ; 
Then am I dead to all the globe, 
And all the globe is dead to me. 

Were the whole realm of nature mine, 
That were a present far too small ; 
Love so amazing, so Divine, 
Demands my soul, my life, my all. 



NOT ALL THE BLOOD OF BEASTS. 



Dr. Isaac Watts (d. 1748). " Faith in Christ our sacrifice. 



'jVrOT all the blood of beasts 
-^ ^ On Jewish altars slain. 
Could give the guilty conscience peace, 
Or wash away the stain. 

But Christ, the heavenly Lamb, 
Takes all our sins away, 
A sacrifice of nobler name. 
And richer blood, than they. 

My faith would lay her hand 
On that dear head of Thine, 
While like a penitent I stand. 
And there confess my sin. 



HIM ON YONDER CROSS I LOVE. 1 89 

My soul looks back to see 
The burdens Thou didst bear 
When hanging on the cursed tree, 
And hopes her guilt was there. 

Believing, we rejoice 
To see the curse remove ; 
We bless the Lamb with cheerful voice, 
And sing His bleeding love. 



HIM ON YONDER CROSS I LOVE. 



From the German of J. E- Greding, 1723, by Catherink Winkworth, II. 57, 
The German begins with the beautiful lines : — 

" Der am Kreuz ist meine Liebe, 
Und sonst nichts auf dieser Welt ! 
O dass Er's doch ewig bliebe, 
Der mir jetzt so wohl gefallt ! " 

It is not to be confounded with a similar hymn of John Mentzer {1670) : — 

" Der am Kreuz ist meine Liebe, 
Meine Lieb' ist Jesus Christ ! 
Weg, ihr argen Seelendiebe, 
Satan, Welt und FJeischeslist ! " 

Both in Schaff's G. H. B., Nos. 125 and 126. 



T TIM on yonder cross I love ; 

-^ -^ Nought on earth I else count dear ! 

May He mine for ever prove. 

Who is now so inly near ! 
Here I stand : whate'er may come, 
Days of sunshine or of gloom. 
From this word I will not move : 
Him upon the cross I love ! 



B 



IC^O THE PASSION. 

'Tis not hidden from my heart, 
What true love must often bring ; 
Want and grief have sorest smart, 
Care and scorn can sharply sting ; 
Nay, but if Thy will were such, 
Bitterest death were not too much ! 
Dark though here my course may prove, 
Him upon the cross I love ! 

Rather sorrows such as these. 
Rather love's acutest pain. 
Than without Him days of ease. 
Riches false and honors vain. 
Count me strange, when I am true, 
What He hates I will not do ; 
Sneers no more my heart can move : 
Him upon the cross I love ! 

Know ye whence my strength is drawn, 
Fearless thus the fight to wage? 
Why my heart can laugh to scorn 
Fleshly weakness, Satan's rage? 
'Tis, I know, the love of Christ : 
Mighty is that love unpriced ! 
What can grieve me, what can move? 
Him upon the cross I love ! 

Once the eyes that now are dim, 
Shall discern the changeless love 



JESUS, THY BLOOD AND RIGHTEOUSNESS. I9I 

That hath led us home to Him, 
That hath crowned us far above : 
Would to God that all below 
What that love is now might know ! 
And their hearts this word approve : 
Him upon the cross I love ! 



JESUS, THY BLOOD AND RIGHTEOUS- 
NESS. 

{Ckristi Blut und Gerechtigkeit.^ 



Count Nic. LuDWiG VON Zinzendorf, 1739. Originally thirty stanzas (complete 
in A. Knapp's edition of Zinzendorf 's SpiriUial Songs, Stuttgart, 1S45, p. 135; 
abridged in Schaff, G. H. B., No. 291). Freely reproduced by Charles Wesley. 



TESUS, Thy Blood and Righteousness 
^ My beauty are, my glorious dress ; 
'Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed, 
With joy shall I lift up my head.^ 

Bold shall I stand in Thy great day. 
For who aught to m}^ charge shall lay ? 
Fully absolved through these I am, 
From sin and fear, from guilt and shame. 

1 The first stanza — which is literally borrowed from an older 
German hymn of P. Eber (1569) — is very popular among Ger- 
man Christians, and often quoted at death-beds : — 

"Christi Blut und Gerechtigkeit : 
^ Das ist meiu Schmuck und Ehrenkleid ; 
Damit werd ich vor Gott bestehn, 
Wann ich zum Himmel werd eingehn." 



B 



192 



THE PASSION. 



The holy, meek, unspotted Lamb, 
Who from the Father's bosom came, 
Who died for me, e'en me to atone, 
Now for my Lord and God I own. 

Lord, I beHeve Thy precious blood, 
Which at the mercy-seat of God 
For ever doth for sinners plead, 
For me — e'en for my soul — was shed. 

Lord, I believe were sinners more 
Than sands upon the ocean shore, 
Thou hast for all a ransom paid, 
For all a full atonement made. 

Wlien from the dust of death I rise 
To claim my mansion in the skies, 
E'en then, this shall be all my plea : 
Jesus hath lived, hath died for me. 

Thus Abraham, the Friend of God, 
Thus all heaven's armies bought with blood, 
Saviour of sinners, Thee proclaim ; 
Sinners of whom the chief I am. 

Jesus, be endless praise to Thee, 
Whose boundless mercy hath for me, 
For me, and all Thy hands have made. 
An everlasting ransom paid. 



SWEET THE MOMENTS, RICH IN BLESSING. 1 93 

Ah ! give to all Thy servants, Lord, 
With power to speak Thy gracious word ; 
That all who to Thy wounds will flee, 
May find eternal life in Thee. 

Thou, God of power. Thou, God of love. 
Let the whole world Thy mercy prove ! 
Now let Thy word o'er all prevail ; 
Now take the spoils of death and hell. 



SWEET THE MOMENTS, RICH IN 
BLESSING. 



Rev. Walter Shirley, 1725-1786. This hymn first appeared, *r774, in Lady 
Huntingdon's HjTnn-Book, which he revised. It is an older hj^nn of Rev. James 
Allen, popularized. It found its way, with two or three other Protestant hymns, into 
the Lyra Catholica (under the heading "Sub Cruce Christi"). Much altered in the 
Andover and other hymn-books. 



OWEET the moments, rich in blessing, 
^^ Which before the cross I spend ; 
Life and health and peace possessing, 

From the sinner's dying Friend. 
Here I'll sit, for ever viewing 

Mercy's streams in streams of blood : 
Precious drops, my soul bedewing. 

Plead and claim my peace with God. 
13 



194 THE PASSION. 

Truly blessed is this station, 

Low before His cross to lie ; 
While I see Divine compassion 

Floating in His languid eye. 
Here it is I find my heaven, 

While upon the Lamb I gaze ; 
Love I much? I've much forgiven, — 

I'm a miracle of grace. 

Love and grief my heart dividing, 

With my tears His feet I'll bathe ; 
Constant still, in faith abiding. 

Life deriving from His death. 
May I still enjoy this feeling. 

In all need to Jesus go ; 
Prove His wounds each day more healing. 

And Himself most deeply know ! 



SURELY CHRIST THY GRIEFS HAS 
BORNE. 



Rev. Aug. M. Toplady (d. 1776). Isa. liii. 4, 5, 12. 



OURELY Christ thy griefs has borne ; 

Weeping soul, no longer mourn : 
View Him bleeding on the tree. 
Pouring out His life for thee ; 
There thy every sin He bore ; 
Weeping soul, lament no more. 



SURELY CHRIST THY GRIEFS HAS BORNE. 1 95 

All thy crimes on Him were laid : 
See, upon His blameless head 
Wrath its utmost vengeance pours, 
Due to my offence and yours ; 
Wounded in our stead He is, 
Bruised for our iniquities. 

Weary sinner, keep thine eyes 

On th' atoning sacrifice ; 

There th' incarnate Deity, 

Numbered with transgressors, see ; 

There, his Father's absence mourns. 

Nailed and bruised, and crowned with thorns. 

See thy God His head bow down. 
Hear the Man of Sorrows groan ! 
For thy ransom there condemned. 
Stripped, derided, and blasphemed ; 
Bleed the guiltless for th' unclean, 
Made an offering for thy sin. 

Cast thy guilty soul on Him, 
Find Him mighty to redeem ; 
At His feet thy burden lay. 
Look thy doubts and cares away ; 
Now by faith the Son embrace. 
Plead His promise, trust His grace. 

Lord, Thine arm must be revealed, 
Ere I can b}^ faith be healed ; 



"D 



196 THE PASSION. 

Since I scarce can look to Thee, 
Cast a gracious eye on me : 
At Thy feet myself I lay ; 
Shine, O shine, my fears away ! 



THERE IS A FOUNTAIN FILLED 
WITH BLOOD. 



William Cowper (1731-1800). From the Ohiey Hymns, 1779, No. 79 : " Praise, 
for the Fountain opened." Zech. xiii. i. This hymn, drawn from the fountain of 
atoning blood, " opened to the house of David and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, for 
sin and for uncleanness," is itself a fountain of comfort and peace. The last two 
stanzas are omitted in most hymn-books. 



T^HERE is a fountain filled with blood 

Drawn from Immanuel's veins, 
And sinners plunged beneath that flood 
Lose all their guilty stains. 

The dying thief rejoiced to see 

That fountain in his day ; 
And there have I, as vile as he. 

Washed all my sins away. 

Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood 

Shall never lose its power. 
Till all the ransomed church of God 

Be saved, to sin no more. 



THERE IS A FOUNTAIN FILLED WITH BLOOD. I97 

E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream 

Thy flowing wounds supply. 
Redeeming love has been my theme, 

And shall be till I die. 

Then, in a nobler, sweeter song, 

I'll sing thy power to save, 
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue 

Lies silent in the grave. 

Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared 

(Unworthy though I be) 
For me a blood-bought, free reward, 

A golden harp for me ! 

'Tis strung and tuned for endless years. 

And formed by power Divine, 
To sound in God the Father's ears 

No other name but Thine. 



198 THE PASSION. 



HARK! THE VOICE OF LOVE AND 
MERCY. 



"Finished Redemption." By the Rev. Jonathan Evans (1749-1799). First 
pubhshed in Ripon's Selection, 1787. The authorship of this hymn is not quite cer- 
tain. See the note in Rogers's Lyra Brit., p. 677. 



T TARK ! the voice of love and mercy 

Sounds aloud from Calvary ; 
See ! it rends the rocks asunder, 

Shakes the earth, and veils the sky : 

" It is finished ! " 
Hear the dying Saviour cry. 

" It is finished ! " O what pleasure 
Do these charming words afford ! 

Heavenly blessings, without measure, 
Flow to us from Christ, the Lord : 

" It is finished ! " 
Saints, the dying words record. 

Finished all the types and shadows 

Of the ceremonial law ; 
Finished all that God had promised. 

Death and hell no more shall awe : 
"It is finished!" 

Saints, from hence your comfort draw. 



fl 



IN THE CROSS OF CHRIST I GLORY. 

Happy souls, approach the table, 
Taste the soul-reviving food ; 

Nothing half so sweet and pleasant 
As the Saviour's flesh and blood : 

"It is finished!" 
Christ has borne the heavy load. 

Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs ; 

Join to sing the pleasing theme ; 
All on earth, and all in heaven. 

Join to praise Immanuel's name ! 
Hallelujah ! 

Glory to the bleeding Lamb ! 



199 



IN THE CROSS OF CHRIST I GLORY. 



"The Cross of Christ." By Sir John Bowring, LL.D., a distinguished diplo- 
matist and colonial governor (b. 1792), author of several important works of travel and 
on politics ; and of a volume of excellent hymns, published in 1825. 



TN the cross of Christ I glory, 

"^ Towering o'er the wrecks of time ; 

All the light of sacred story 

Gathers round its head sublime. 

When the woes of life o'ertake me, 
Hopes deceive, and fears annoy. 

Never shall the cross forsake me ; 
Lo ! it glows with peace and joy. 



200 THE PASSION. 

When the sun of bliss is beaming 
Light and love upon my way, 

From the cross the radiance streaming, 
Adds more lustre to the day. 

Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure, 
By the cross are sanctified ; 

Peace is there that knows no measure ; 
Joys that through all time abide. 

In the cross of Christ I glory, 

Towering o'er the wrecks of time ; 

All the light of sacred story 

Gathers round its head sublime. 



WE SING THE PRAISE OF HIM WHO 
DIED. 



Rev. Thomas Kelly, 1769-1855. 



TT 7E sing the praise of Him who died, 
' ' Of Him who died upon the cross : 
The sinner's hope let men deride ; 
For this we count the world but loss. 



WE SING THE PRAISE OF HIM WHO DIED. 201 

Inscribed upon the cross we see 
The shining letters " God is love : " 
He bears our sins upon the tree, 
He brings us mercy from above. 

The cross, it takes our guilt away. 
It holds the fainting spirit up ; 
It cheers with hope the gloomy day. 
And sweetens every bitter cup. 

It makes the coward spirit brave. 
And nerves the feeble arm for fight ; 
It takes its terror from the grave. 
And gilds the bed of death with light. 

The balm of life, the cure of woe. 
The measure and the pledge of love. 
The sinner's refuge here below. 
The angels' theme in heaven above. 



tj 



202 THE PASSION. 



COME TO CALVARY'S HOLY MOUN- 
TAIN. 



James Montgomery (born 1771 ; died at Sheffield, 1854). Zech. xiii. i: "In 
that day, there shall be a Fountain opened." 



/^"^OME to Calvary's holy mountain, 

^^ Sinners ruined by the fall ; 

Here a pure and healing fountain 
Flows to you, to me, to all, 
In a full, perpetual tide. 
Opened when our Saviour died. 

Come in poverty and meanness. 
Come defiled, without, within ; 

From infection arid uncleanness. 
From the leprosy of sin. 
Wash your robes, and make them white 
Ye shall walk with God in light. 

Come, in sorrow and contrition. 
Wounded, impotent, and blind ; 

Here the guilty, free remission. 

Here the troubled, peace may find ; 
Health this fountain will restore, 
He that drinks shall thirst no more. 



FLING OUT THE BANNER ! LET IT FLOAT. 203 

He that drinks shall live for ever ; 

'Tis a soul-renewing flood : 
God is faithful, — God will never 

Break His covenant in blood ; 

Signed when our Redeemer died, 

Sealed when He was glorified. 



FLING OUT THE BANNER! 
FLOAT. 



LET IT 



Bishop G. W. DoANE. Died at Burlington, NJ., 1859. 



"TILING out the Banner ! let it float 
-^ Skyward and seaward, high and wide 
The sun, that lights its shining folds. 
The Cross, on which the Saviour died. 

Fling out the Banner ! Angels bend, 
In anxious silence o'er the sign ; 
And vainly seek to comprehend 
The wonder of the love divine. 

Fling out the Banner ! Heathen lands 
Shall see, from far, the glorious sight ; 
And nations, crowding to be born, 
Baptize their spirits in its light. 



u 



204 thp: passion. 

Fling out the Banner ! Sin-sick souls, 
That sink and perish in the strife, 
Shall touch in faith its radiant hem. 
And spring immortal into life. 

Fling out the Banner ! Let it float 
Skyward and seaward, high and wide ; 
Our glory, only in the Cross, 
Our only hope, the Crucified. 

Fling out the Banner ! Wide and high, 
Seaward and skyward, let it shine : 
Nor skill, nor might, nor merit, ours ; 
We conquer only in that sign. 



WHEREFORE WEEP WE OVER JESUS? 

( Wemt nicht ilber yesu Schmerzen.^ 



Ky the Rev. Philip Spitta, died 1859. Translated by Richard Massie, i860. 
Weep not for me, but weep for yourselves." — Luke xxiii. 28. 



"1 T7HEREFORE weep we over Jesus, 

^ ^ O'er His death and bitter smart? 
Weep we rather that He sees us 

Unconvinced and hard of heart ; 
For His soul was never tainted 

With the smallest spot or stain : 
'Twas for us He was acquainted 

With such depths of grief and pain. 



\ 




WHEREFORE WEEP WE OVER JESUS? 205 

Oh ! what profits it with groaning 

Underneath His cross to stand ; 
Oh ! what profits our bemoaning 

His pale brow and bleeding hand? 
Wherefore gaze on Him expiring, 

Railed at, pierced, and crucified. 
Whilst we think not of inquiring. 

Wherefore, and for whom He died? 

If no sin could be discovered 

In the pure and spotless Lord, 
If the cruel death He suflfered 

Is sin's just and meet reward : 
Then it must have been for others 

That the Lord on Calvary bled, 
And the guilt have been a brother's, 

Which was laid upon His head. 

And for whom hath He contended 

In a strife so strange and new? 
And for whom to hell descended ? 

Brothers ! 'twas for me and you I 
Now you see that He was reaping 

Punishment for us alone ; 
And we have great cause for weeping. 

Not for His guilt, but our own. 

If we then make full confession. 
Joined with penitence and prayer, 



2o6 THE PASSION. 

If we see our own transgression 
In the punishment He bare, 

If we mourn with true repentance, 
We shall hear the Saviour say, 

" Fear not : I have borne your sentence ; 
Wipe your bitter tears away." 



RIDE ON, RIDE ON IN MAJESTY. 



Christ's final entrance into Jerusalem. John xii. 12-15. By the Very Rev. Henrv 
Hart Milman, D.D. ; b. London, 1791; since 1849, Dean of St. Paul's; author of 
" History of Latin Christianity," &c. His poetical works were published 1839, i" 
3 vols. i2mo. He died Sept. 1868. 



"D IDE on, ride on in majesty ! 
•^^ In lowly pomp ride on to die : 
O Christ ! Thy triumphs now begin 
O'er captive death and conquered sin. 

Ride on, ride on in majesty ! 

The winged squadrons of the sky 

Look down, with sad and wondering eyes, 

To see th' approaching sacrifice. 

Ride on, ride on in majesty ! 
Thy last and fiercest strife is nigh : 
The Father, on His sapphire throne. 
Expects His own anointed Son. 



BOUND UPON THE ACCURSED TREE. 207 

Ride on, ride on in majesty ! 

In lowly pomp ride on to die : 

Bow Thy meek head to mortal pain ; 

Then take, O God, Thy power, and reign ! 



BOUND UPON THE ACCURSED TREE. 



Dr. Henry Hart Milman, Dean of St. Paul's, London; d. 1868. 



"DOUND upon th' accursed tree, 
-*-^ Faint and bleeding, who is He? 
By the eyes so pale and dim, 
Streaming blood, and writhing limb ; 
By the flesh, with scom*ges torn ; 
By the crown of twisted thorn ; 
By the side so deeply pierced ; 
By the baflied, bm*ning thirst ; 
By the drooping death-dewed brow : 
Son of Man, 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! 

Bound upon th' accursed tree, 
Dread and awful, who is He? 
By the sun at noon-day pale. 
Shivering rocks, and rending veil ; 
By earth, that trembles at His doom ; 
By yonder saints who burst their tomb ; 



208 



THE PASSION. 



By Eden promised, ere He died, 
To the felon at His side ; 
Lord, our suppliant knees we bow : 
Son of God, 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou I 

Bound upon th' accursed tree, 
Sad and dying, who is He? 
By the last and bitter cry ; 
The ghost given up in agony ; 
By the lifeless body laid 
In the chamber of the dead ; 
By the mourners come to weep 
Where the bones of Jesus sleep ; 
Crucified ! we know Thee now : 
Son of Man, 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! 



Bound upon th' accursed tree, 
Dread and awful, who is He? 
By the prayer for them that slew, — 
" Lord, they know not what they do ! " 
By the spoiled and empty grave ; 
By the souls He died to save ; 
By the conquest He hath won ; 
By the saints before His throne ; 
By the rainbow round His brow : 
Son of God, 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! 



ASK YE WHAT GREAT THING I KNOW. 209 

ASK YE WHAT GREAT THING I KNOW. 



Rev. Dr. Benjamin Hall Kennedy, b. 1804; Rector of West Felton, England. 



A SK ye what great thing I know 
^ ^ That delights and stirs me so? 
What the high reward I win ? 
Whose the Name I glory in? 

Jesus Christ, the Crucified. 

What is faith's foundation strong? 
What awakes my lips to song? 
He who bore my sinful load 
Purchased for me peace with God, 
Jesus Christ, the Crucified. 

Who is He that makes me wise 
To discern where duty lies ? 
Who is He that makes me true. 
Duty, when discerned, to do? 

Jesus Christ, the Crucified. 

Who defeats my fiercest foes? 
Who consoles my saddest woes? 
Who revives my fainting heart, 
Healing all its hidden smart? 

Jesus Christ, the Crucified. 
14 



2IO THE PASSION. 

"Who is life in life to me? 
Who the death of death will be ? 
Who will place me on His right, 
With the countless hosts of light? 
Jesus Christ, the Crucified. 

This is that great thing I know ; 
This delights and stirs me so : 
Faith in Him who died to save, 
Him who triumphed o'er the grave, 
Jesus Christ, the Crucified. 



OPPRESSED WITH NOON-DAY'S 
SCORCHING HEAT. 



"The Shadow of the Cross." By Horatius Bonar, D.D., Hymns of Faith 
and Hope, First Series. 



/^PPRESSED with noon-day's scorching heat, 
^^ To yonder cross I flee ; 
Beneath its shelter take my seat ; 
No shade like this for me ! 

Beneath that cross clear waters burst, 

A fountain sparkling free ; 
And there I quench my desert thirst ; 

No spring like this for me ! 





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^ 




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c 




'3 


t 


CLING TO THE CRUCIFIED. 211 

A stranger here, I pitch my tent 

Beneath this spreading tree ; 
Here shall my pilgrim life be spent ; 

No home like this for me ! 

For burdened ones a resting-place, 

Beside that cross I see ; 
Here I cast off my weariness ; 

No rest like this for me ! 


9 




♦ 
CLING TO THE CRUCIFIED. 






"Abide in Him." Horatius Bonar, D.D. ; b. Edinburgh, 1808. 






" Tecum volo vulnerari 






Te libenter amplexari 






In cruce desidero." 






Old Hymn. 






/^LING to the Crucified ! 
^^ His death is lifo to thee, — 










Lifo for eternity. 






His pains thy pardon seal ; 






His stripes thy bruises heal ; 






His cross proclaims thy peace, 






Bids every sorrow cease. 






His blood is all to thee : 






It purges thee from sin ; 






It sets thy spirit free ; 






It keeps thy conscience clean. 




€ 


Cling to the Crucified ! 


» 


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;> U ■■ 


J 



212 THE PASSION. 

Cling to the Crucified ! 
His is a heart of love, 
Full as the hearts above ; 
Its depths of sympathy 
Are all awake for thee : 
His countenance is light, 
Even to the darkest night. 
That love shall never change ; 
That light shall ne'er grow dim 
Charge thou thy faithless heart 
To find its all in Him. 
Cling to the Crucified ! 



I LAY MY SINS ON JESUS. 



HoRATius BoNAR, D.D. "The Substitute." From the First Series of his 
Hymns of Faith and Hope. 



" Je-:u, plena caritate 
Manus tuse perforatce 

Laxent mea crimina ; 
Latus tuum lanceatum, 
Caput spinis coronatum, 
Hasc sint medicamina." 

Old Hymn. 

T LAY my sins on Jesus, 
^ The spotless Lamb of God ; 
He bears them all, and frees us 
From the accursed load. 



I LAY MY SINS ON JESUS. 213 

I bring my guilt to Jesus, 

To wash my crimson stains 
White in His blood most precious, 

Till not a stain remains. 

I lay my wants on Jesus ; 

All fulness dwells in Him : 
He heals all my diseases, 

He doth my soul redeem. 
I lay my griefs on Jesus, 

My burdens and my cares : 
He from them all releases, 

He all my sorrows shares. 

I rest my soul on Jesus, 

This weary soul of mine : 
His right hand me embraces, 

I on His breast recline. 
I love the name of Jesus, 

Immanuel, Christ, the Lord : 
Like fragrance on the breezes. 

His name abroad is poured. 

I long to be like Jesus, 

Meek, loving, lowly, mild : 
I long to be like Jesus, 

The Father's holy Child. 
I long to be with Jesus 

Amid the heavenly throng, 
To sing with saints His praises. 

To learn the angel's song. 



g 




214 THE PASSION. 



WOULDST THOU LEARN THE DEPTH 

OF SIN? 



Gethsemane. By the Rev. John S. B. Monsell, LL.D., b. 1811, one of the 
Rural Deans in the see of Wmchester, author of several volumes of sacred lyrics. 



TT70ULDST thou learn the depth of sin, 

^ ' All its bitterness and pain ? 
What it cost thy God to win 
Sinners to Himself again ? 
Come, poor sinner, come with me ; 
Visit sad Gethsemane. 

Wouldst thou know God's wondrous love ? 

Seek it not beside the throne ; 

List not angels' praise above, 

But come and hear the heavy groan 

By the Godhead heaved for thee. 

Sinner, in Gethsemane. 

When His tears and bloody sweat, 
When His passion and His prayer, 
When His pangs on Olivet, 
Wake within thee thoughts of care, — 
Remember, sinner, 'twas for thee 
He suffered in Gethsemane ! 



MY SINS, MY SINS, MY SAVIOUR ! 215 

Hate the sin that cost so dear ; 
Love the God that loved thee so ; 
Weep if thou wilt, but likewise fear 
To bid that fountain freshly flow, 
That gushed so freely once for thee 
In sorrowful Gethsemane. 



MY SINS, MY SINS, MY SAVIOUR! 



John S. B. Monsell, LL.D., Vicar of Egham. From his Hy7n7ts of Love and 
Praise for the Church'' s Year, Lond. 1863. For Ash Wednesday. On Ps. xi. 15: 
" My sins have taken such hold upon me, that I am not able to look up ; yea, they are 
more in number than the hairs of my head, and my heart hath failed me." 



IV /TY sins, my sins, m}^ Saviour ! 
^^ They take such hold on me, 
I am not able to look up. 

Save only, Christ, to Thee : 
In Thee is all forgiveness, 

In Thee abundant grace, 
My shadow and my sunshine 

The brightness of Thy face. 

My sins, my sins, my Saviour ! 

How sad on Thee they fall ! 
Seen through Thy gentle patience, 

I tenfold feel them all. 



2l6 THE PASSION. 

I know they are forgiven ; 

But still, their pain to me 
Is all the grief and anguish 

They laid, my Lord, on Thee. 

My sins, my sins, my Saviour ! 

Their guilt I never knew. 
Till, with Thee, in the desert 

I near Thy passion drew, — 
Till, with Thee, in the garden 

I heard Thy pleading prayer, 
And saw the sweat-drops bloody 

That told Thy sorrow there. 

Therefore my songs, my Saviour ! 

E'en in this time of woe. 
Shall tell of all Thy goodness 

To suffering man below, — 
Thy goodness and Thy favor. 

Whose presence from above, 
Rejoice those hearts, my Saviour, 

That live in Thee, and love. 



JESUS ! GENTLE SUFFERER, SAY. 217 



JESUS! GENTLE SUFFERER, SAY. 



For Good Friday. By John S. B. Monsell, LL.D.,' Vicar of Eghani, bcrn 
181 1. From his Hymiis of Love and Praise, Lond. 1863, p. 82. The Canterbury 
Hymnal gives this hymn with abridgments and unnecessary changes (" Jesu, mighty 
Sufferer, say," &c.)- 



JESUS ! gentle Sufferer, say, 
^ How shall we this dreadful day 
Near Thee draw, and to Thee pray? 

We, whose proneness to forget 

Thy dear love, on Olivet 

Bathed Thy brow with bloody sweat ; 

We, whose sins, with awful power. 
Like a cloud did o'er Thee lower, 
In that God-excluding hour ; 

We, who still, in thought and deed. 

Often hold the bitter reed 

To Thee, in Th}^ time of need, — 

Canst Thou pardon us, and pray, 
As for those who on this day 
Took Thy precious life away ? 

Yes ! Thy blood is all my plea ; 
It was shed, and shed for me. 
Therefore to Thy cross I flee. 



2l8 THE PASSION. 

At Thy feet, in dust and shame, 
I dare breathe Thy holy name, 
And a great salvation claim. 

Save me, Jesus : stoop and take 

Pity on my soul, and make 

This day bright, for Thy dear sake. 



THOU WHO DIDST HANG UPON A 
BARREN TREE. 



Long Barren." By Christina G. Rossetti, 1866 {Poems, Boston ed., p. 245). 



nPHOU who didst hang upon a barren tree, 

-*- My God, for me ; 
Though I till now be barren, now at length, 
Lord, give me strength 
To bring forth fruit to Thee. 

Thou who didst bear for me the crown of thorn, 

Spitting and scorn ; 
Though I till now have put forth thorns, yet now 

Strengthen me Thou, 
That better fruit be borne. 

Thou Rose of Sharon, Cedar of broad roots. 

Vine of sweet fruits, 
Thou Lily of the vale, with fadeless leaf. 
Of thousands Chief, 
Feed Thou my feeble shoots. 



O JESUS ! SWEET THE TEARS I SHED. 219 



O JESUS! SWEET THE TEARS I SHED. 



"At the Cross." "I am crucified with Christ." — Gal. ii. 20. Rev, Dr. Ray 
Palmer; b. 180S, in the State of Rhode Island. From his Hy?jzns of my Holy 
Hours, New York, 1867. One of h!s best hymns. 



C 



/^ JESUS ! sweet the tears I shed, 
^^ While at Thy cross I kneel, 
Gaze on Thy wounded, fainting head. 
And all Thy sorrows feel. 

My heart dissolves to see Thee bleed, 

This heart so hard before ; 
I hear Thee for the guilty plead, 

And grief o'erflows the more. 

'Twas for the sinful Thou didst die, 

And I a sinner stand : 
What love speaks from Thy dying eye, 

And from each pierced hand ! 

I know this cleansing blood of Thine 
Was shed, dear Lord, for me, — 

For me, for all — O grace divine ! — 
Who look by faith on Thee. 

O Christ of God ! O spotless Lamb ! 

By love my soul is drawn ; 
Henceforth, for ever. Thine I am ; 

Here life and peace are born. 



220 THE PASSION. 



In patient hope the cross I'll bear, 

Thine arm shall be my stay ; 
And Thou, enthroned, my soul shalt spare, 

On Thy great judgment-day. 



WONDER OF WONDERS ! ON THE CROSS. 



"The Sacrifice." A sonnet, by Dr. Ray Palmer. From his Hymns atid Sa- 
cred Pieces, New York, 1865. 



"X T 70NDER of wonders ! On the cross He dies ! 
^ ^ Man of the ages, David's mighty Son, 
The Eternal Word, who spake and it was done. 
What time, of old. He formed the earth and skies. 

Abashed be all the wisdom of the wise ! 

Let the wide earth through all her kingdoms know 
The promised Lamb of God, whose blood should 

flow, — 
For human guilt the grand, sole sacrifice. 

No more need altar smoke, nor victim bleed : 
'Tis finished ! — the great mystery of love. 
Ye sin-condemned, by this blood, 'tis decreed. 

Ye stand absolved : behold the curse remove ! 

O Christ I Th}^ deadly wounds. Thy mortal strife 
Crush death and hell, and give immortal life ! 



O HEAD, SO FULL OF BRUISES ! 221 



O HEAD, SO FULL OF BRUISES! 



"The Crucifixion." Joseph Stammers, bom 1801, barrister in London. Con- 
tributed to Rogers's Lyr. Brit., 1867, p. 517. 



r\ HEAD, so full of bruises ! 
^^ Brow, that its life-blood loses ! 

Oh ! great humility ! 
Across His face are flying 
The shadows of the dying : 

'Twas suffered all for me ! 

O Back, by scourges ploughed ! 
O Soul, by sorrow bowed 

Upon the accursed tree ! 
He hears the bitter scorning ; 
'Tis night, without a dawning : 

'Twas suffered all for me ! 

Eye, that in darkness sinketh ! 
Lip, that the red cup drinketh ! 

Hands, bound to miser}^ ! 
See, from His feet forth streameth 
The fountain that redeemeth ! 

'Twas suffered all for me ! 

And now He speaks : oh, hearken. 
While clouds all nature darken ! 
"Lama sabachthani?" 



222 THE PASSION. 



His head is bent, and droopeth ! 
To such a death He stoopeth ! 
'Twas suffered all for me ! 



WHEN, WOUNDED SORE, THE STRICKEN 
SOUL. 



"Touched with a feeling of our infirmities." — Heb. iv. 15. By Mrs. Cecil Fran- 
ces Alexander. Contributed to the Lyra Anglicaua, 1867. One of the best hymns 
of this gifted poetess. 

^T /"HEN, wounded sore, the stricken soul 

Lies bleeding and unbound. 
One onl}^ hand, a pierced hand, 
Can salve the sinner's wound. 

When sorrow swells the laden breast. 

And tears of anguisli flow, 
One only heart, a broken heart, 

Can feel the sinner's woe. 

When penitence has wept in vain 

Over some foul, dark spot, 
One only stream, a stream of blood. 

Can wash away the blot. 

'Tis Jesu's blood that washes white, 

His hand that brings relief; 
His heart that's touched with all our joys, 

And feeleth for our grief 



ARE THERE NO WOUNDS FOR ME f 223 

Lift up Thy bleeding hand, O Lord ! 

Unseal that cleansing tide : 
We have no shelter from our sin 

But in Thy wounded side. 



ARE THERE NO WOUNDS FOR ME? 



" Who loved me, and gave Himself for me." — Gal. ii. 20. By Mrs. Grace Web- 
STER Hinsdale, of Brooklyn, N.Y., April, 1868. Contributed to this Collection. 



\ RE there no wounds for me f 
■^ -^ Hast Thou received them all? 
How can I, Lord, the anguish see, 
Beneath which Thou didst fall ! 

Shedding such tears for me ! 

Sweating such drops of blood ! 
That by Th}^ s'ripes my soul might be 

Saved from the wrath of God ! 

'Tis over now, I know, — 
That suffering life of Thine ; 

Thy precious blood has ceased to flow, 
Thou wear'st Thy crown divine ; 

But yet, I weeping see 

The thorns which pierced Thy head ; 
Thou faint'st beneath Thy cross for me. 

For me to death Thou'rt led ! 



224 THE PASSION. 

Stretched on the cruel tree, 
And fastened by my sin, — 

Lord, at Thy cross, with shame, I see 
How guilty I have been. 

Meekly, with love divine. 

Thy holy head is bent. 
And streams of blood, for sins of mine, 

Flow where Thy side is rent. 

Such grief did well atone 

For all our sinful race ; 
But yet, O Christ ! for me alone 

The Father hid His face ! 

Oh, how this crimson tide 

O'erwhelms my soul with shame ! 

Within Thy bleeding wounds I hide : 
Wilt Thou, Lord, own my name? 

Beneath this sacred flood 

I bow my sinful soul : 
Dear Saviour, let Thy precious blood 

O'er my defilement roll. 



^ 




^^ 



THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 



EASTER EVE. 



" And when Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean Hnen doth, and 
laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hevm out in the rock : and he rolled a great 
stone to the door of the sepulchre, and departed. And there was Mary Magdalene 
and the other Mary, sitting over against the sepulchre." — Matt, xxvii. 59-61. 

/^ LORD JESUS, who bj Thy rest in the grave, and descent 
into the world of departed spirits, hast sanctified the tomb, 
and opened the gate of paradise to all believers : grant unto us, 
we beseech Thee, that, being crucified with Thee to sin, we may 
rest in peace, and attain, with the whole armj of the Redeemed, 
unto the glorious resurrection to life everlasting. Amen. 

" Come and deck the grave with flowers. 
That is now a blessed bed. 
Where the truest Friend of ours 
Stooped to rest His holy head ; 
For the .Saviour, in it lying, 

Did its grief and gloom destroy, 

Took from death the dread of dying, 

Gavt. to life its crown and joy." 

John S. B. Monsell. 




"^ 


.— f^ 




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THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 

EASTER EVE. 




u 






THE SEPULCHRE IS HOLDING. 








Translated from the Latin. The People's Hymttal, Lond. 1867, No. in. 






" 1 ^HE sepulchre is holding 
To-day within its band 








The Lord, Who holds creation 










Within His strong right hand. 










To-day a stone is hiding 

From gaze of mortal eye 
The Lord, whose glory hideth 










The brightness of the sky. 










The Life of all is sleeping, 

But Hell is quaking sore : 
And Adam bursts the fetters 










Which prisoned him before. 






o 








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f^~ 








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228 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 

All praise to Thee, Lord Jesu, 
Whose Providence of love 

Hath won for us, Thy people, 
The Sabbath rest above. 

To Christ, the King of glory, 
Who in the tomb was laid. 

To Father and to Spirit 
Eternal laud be paid. 



REST OF THE WEARY! 

(^So ruJiest Du, O meine Rtch\^ 



Salomon Frank, 1716. Trsl. by Miss C. Winkworth, Lyra Germ., I. p. 85- 



R' 



EST of the weary ! Thou 

Thyself art resting now. 

Where lowly in Thy sepulchre Thou liest. 

From out her deathly sleep. 

My soul doth start, to weep. 

So sad a wonder, that Thou Saviour diest I 

Thy bitter anguish o'er. 

To this dark tomb they bore 
Thee, Life of life, — Thee, Lord of all creation I 

The hollow rocky cave 

Must serve Thee for a grave, 
Who wast Thyself the Rock of our Salvation ! 



Z) 



REST OF THE WEARY ! 2 29 

O Prince of Life ! I know 

That when I, too, He low, 
Thou wilt at last my soul from death awaken ; 

Wherefore I will not shrink 

From the grave's awful brink : 
The heart that trusts in Thee shall ne'er be shaken. 

To me the darksome tomb 

Is but a narrow room. 
Where I may rest in peace, from sorrow free. 

Thy death shall give me power 

To cry in that dark hour, 
O Death, O Grave, where is your victory? 

The grave can nought destroy, 

Only the flesh can die ; 
And e'en the body triumphs o'er decay : 

Clothed by Thy wondrous might 

In robes of dazzling light. 
This flesh shall burst the grave at that last Day. 

My Jesus, day by day. 

Help me to watch and pray. 
Beside the tomb where in my heart Thou'rt laid : 

Thy bitter death shall be 

My constant memory. 
My guide at last into Death's awful shade. 



fl 



230 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 



RESTING FROM HIS WORK TO-DAY. 



Yxom Hymm Ancient and Modern^ Lond. i860, No. 105. 



"D ESTING from His work to-day, 

^ In the tomb the Saviour lay ; 
Still He slept, from head to feet 
Shrouded in the winding-sheet, 
Lying in the rock alone, 
Hidden by the sealed stone. 

Late at even there was seen, 
Watching long, the Magdalene ; 
Early, ere the break of day. 
Sorrowful she took her way 
To the holy garden glade. 
Where her buried Lord was laid. 

So with Thee, till life shall end, 
I would solemn vigil spend ; 
Let me hew Thee, Lord, a shrine 
In this rocky heart of mine. 
Where, in pure embalmed cell, 
None but Thou may ever dwell. 



REST, WEARY SON OF GOD. 

Myrrh and spices will I bring, 

True affection's offering ; 

Close the door from sight and sound 

Of the busy world around ; 

And in patient watch remain 

Till my Lord appear again. 



231 



REST, WEARY SON OF GOD. 



HoRATius BoNAR. Hymtis of Faith and Hope, Third Series, 



"O EST, weary Son of God ; and I, with Thee, 
-'^^ Rest in that rest of Thine. 
My weariness was Thine ; Thou barest it, 
And now Thy rest is mine. 

Rest, weary Son of God ; we joy to think 

That all Thy toil is done. 
No ache, no pang, no sigh for Thee again ; 

Thy joy is now begun. 



Thy life on earth was one sad weariness ; 

Nowhere to lay Thy head. 
Thy days were toil and heat ; Thy lonely nights 

Sought some cold mountain bed. 



« 



232 



THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. 



How calmly in that tomb Thou liest now, 

Thy rest how still and deep ! 
O'er Thee in love the Father rests : He gives 

To His beloved sleep. 

On Bethel-pillow now Thy head is laid, 

In Joseph's rock-hewn cell ; 
Thy watchers are the angels of Thy God : 

They guard Thy slumbers well. 

With Thee Thy God and Father still abides. 

And Thou art not alone. 
He in that still dark chamber is with Thee, 

The well-beloved Son. 

Oh, silent, silent is Thy earthly tomb ! 

The raging of Thy foes 
Is ended all ! nor Jew nor Roman now 

Can ruffle Thy repose. 

Rest, weary Son of God : Thy work is done. 

And all Thy burdens borne ; 
Rest on that stone, till the third sun has brought 

Thine everlasting morn. 



Then to a higher, brighter, truer rest. 

Upon the throne above, 
Rise, weary Son of Man, to carry out 

Thy glorious work of love. 



THE RESURRECTION. 



" Christ is risen fi-oiii the dead, and become the first-fruits of them that slept. 
For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead P'or as 
in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." — i Cor. xv. 20-22. 

" If ye, then, be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where 
Christ sitteth on the right hand of God." — Col. iii. i. 

/^ THOU Prince of Life and First-Begotten of the dead! 
who, bj Thj glorious resurrection, hast overcome death, 
and opened unto us the gate of everlasting life : enable us, bj 
Thy heavenly grace, to walk in newness of life, and to abound 
in the fruits of righteousness; so that we may at last triumph 
over death and the grave, and rise in Thy likeness, having our 
vile bodies changed into the fashion of Thine own glorious body, 
who art God over all, blessed for ever. Amen. 



■ Stupenda lex mysterii, 
Novum genus prcelii : 
Ligatus nexos liberat, 
Mortuus viv^ficat, 
Dumque Vita perimitur, 
Mortis mors efficitur." 

Peter Damiani (Daniel, I. 223). 




THE RESURRECTION. 



HAIL, DAY OF DAYS! IN PEALS OF 
PRAISE. 

(^Salve^ festa dies, toto venerahilis cbvo.') 



Free, from the Latin of Venantius Fortunatus, Bishop of Polctlers, 600. In 
this sweet poem, the whole nature, bom anew in the spring, and arrayed in the bridal 
garment of hope and promise, welcomes the risen Saviour, the Prince of spiritual and 
eternal life. The original (Daniel, I. 170) has fourteen stanzas, of three lines each. 
Trench (p. 152) gives only ten lines. Daniel remarks, " Ex hoc suavissimo poemate 
ecclesia decem versus sibi vindicavit, qui efficerent canticum trlumphale Paschatis." 
It passed also into several German forms, e.g., " Sei gegrlisst, du heiliger Tag." The 
version here given is a very free transfusion, in a different measure. Another English 
version, more closely following the original, by Mrs. Charles : " Hail, festal Day ! 
ever exalted Iiigh ; " and one by Dr. Neale : " Hail, festal Day ! for evermore 
adored." 



T TAIL, Day of days ! in peals of praise 
-*- -^ Throughout all ages owned, 
When Christ, our God, hell's empire trod. 
And high o'er heaven was throned.^ 

This glorious morn the world new-born 

In rising beauty shows ; 
How, with her Lord to life restored, 

Her gifts and graces rose ! 

' " Salve, festa dies, toto venerabilis jevo. 

Qua Deus infemum vicit et astra tenet. 
Salve, festa die-, toto venerabilis aevo." 



236 THE RESURRECTION. 

The spring serene in sparkling sheen 

The flower-clad earth arrays, 
Heaven's portal bright its radiant light 

In fuller flood displays. 

The fiery sun in loftier noon, 

O'er heaven's high orbit shines. 
As o'er the tide of waters wide 

He rises and declines. 

From hell's deep gloom, from earth's dark tomb, 

The Lord in triumph soars ; 
The forests raise their leafy praise ; 

The flowery field adores. 

As star by star He mounts afar. 

And hell imprisoned lies, 
Let stars and light and depth and height 

In Hallelujahs rise. 

Lo ! He Who died, the Crucified, 

God over all He reigns ; 
On Him we call, His creatures all. 

Who heaven and earth sustains. 



THE SUPPER OF THE LAMB TO SHARE. 237 

THE SUPPER OF THE LAMB TO SHARE. 

(Ad coinam Agnt providi.) 



An old hyynmis pascJialis, which may have been sung, in the early Church, by the 
newly baptized catechumens, when, in their white robes, they first approached the 
Lord's table. Daniel, I. 88, gives the original, and the altered form of the Roman 
Breviary (" Ad regias Agni dapes "). Trsl. in Voice of Christian Life in Song; p. 103. 
Another version by Neale : " The Lamb's high banquet we await." 



npHE Supper of the Lamb to share, 

-■- We come in vesture white and fair ; 
The Red Sea crossed, our hymn we sing 
To Christ, our Captain and our King. 

His holy body on the cross. 
Parched, on that altar hung for us ; 
And, drinking of His crimson blood, 
We live upon the living God. 

Protected in the Paschal night 
From the destroying angel's might, 
And by a powerful hand set free 
From Pharaoh's bitter slavery. 

For Christ our Passover is slain, 
The Lamb is offered not in vain ; 
With truth's sincere unleavened bread. 
His flesh He gave. His blood He shed. 



238 THE RESURRECTION. 

O Victim, worthy Thou for ever, 
Who didst the bands of hell dissever ! 
Redeem Thy captives from the foe, 
The gift of life afresh bestow. 

When Christ from out the tomb arose, 
Victor o'er hell and all His foes. 
The tyrant forth in chains He drew, 
And planted Paradise anew. 

Author of all, to Thee we pray. 
In this our Easter joy to-day ; 
From every weapon death can wield 
Thy trusting people ever shield. 



WE KEEP THE FESTIVAL. 

(Ad regias. Agni dapes.) 



From the Roman Breviary (Sabbato ir\ Albis infra Octavam Paschae). Daniel, 
1. 88. Compare the preceding hymn and note. Reproduced (with a doxology added) 
by the Rev. Dr. A. R. Thompson, of the Dutch Reformed Church, New York, 
Easter, 1S68. Contributed to this Collection. 



'^T 7E keep the festival 
^ ^ Of the slain Lamb our King, 

The Red Sea passed. 

And safe at last. 
Our Leader's praise we sing. 



nj 



WE KEEP THE FESTIVAL. 239 

His love ineffable 

He pledged in precious blood ; 

And Priest most high, 

The altar by, 
Himself devoting, stood. 

The sacred crimson sign 
The avenging angel knew ; 

And the sea fled 

Back at Christ's tread, 
And gave a pathway through. 

Christ is our Passover ! 
And we will keep the feast 

With the new leaven. 

The bread of heaven : 
All welcome, even the least! 

O Heavenly Champion ! 

Death thought to vanquish Thee ! 

But Death is slain ; 

And Thou again 
Art risen, and we are free. 

Hail, mighty Conqueror ! 
Under Thy glorious feet 

The tyrant lies, 
, And gasps, and dies : 
What praise for Thee is meet? 



. < 



240 THE RESURRECTION. 

Forth from the gloomy prison, 
Jesus, we follow Thee, 

With broken chain. 

With ended pain, 
To life and liberty ! 

All glory be to Thee I 
All worship to Thy name ! 

Thee we adore. 

And evermore 
Will celebrate Thy fame ! 



THE CHURCH OF GOD LIFTS UP HER 
VOICE. 



Greek Paschal Hymn. From the offices of the Greek Church, by W. C. Dix. 



'T^HE Church of God lifts up her voice : 

-*- To-day both heaven and earth rejoice ; 
The gladsome Passover is here, 
The Passover of Christ most dear. 



The Passover that frees from woe. 
That binds in chains the ancient foe. 
That opens wide the heavenly gate. 
The Lord's own day we celebrate. 







IF THE DARK AND AWFUL TOMB. 24I 

From " very early " until night, 
One strain we lift, one shout of might : 
With Eucharist the morn arose, 
With Hallelujahs day shall close. 

O Christ, eternal Pascha, Thou, 
And Crown for every willing brow ! 
Thou spotless Lamb, and Victor bright, 
Arrayed in more than morning light ! 

On this Thy Resurrection-day 
Be strife and hate put far away, 
That those who in Th}^ likeness live 
May each his brother's wrongs forgive. 

The earth in festal raiment stands. 
The floods for gladness clap their hands ; 
Then higher still, and higher raise, 
The true, the living Pascha's praise. 



IF THE DARK AND AWFUL TOMB. 

(Ei Kal ev Tu(pG).) 



Greek ode of John Damascene, 7S7, the greatest poet, and one of the first 
divines, of the Oriental Church, though very Uttle is known of his life. Translated by 

ITT r- -r\ 



W. C. Dix. 



TF the dark and awful tomb 

Thou, immortal One, hast known, 
Rising, in Thy deathless bloom. 
Hades Thou hast overthrown. 

t6 



242 THE RESURRECTION. 

Yes : as Victor Thou hast burst 
All the bands of hell, and said, 
Hail ! to those who sought Thee first, 
Bearing ointment for the dead. 

Peace, Thy earliest, sweetest gift, 
Unto Thine Apostles given ; 
All the fallen Thou didst lift 
From the gates of hell to heaven. 



'TIS THE DAY OF RESURRECTION. 

(^Avaanwecjg r/fiepa.) 



From the Greek of St. John of Damascus (d. before 787). His " Canon for Eas- 
ter," which we give here in part, is called "the Golden Canon," or "the Queen of 
Canons," and is sung in the Greek Churches after midnight before Easter Day. 
Translated by Dr. J. M. Neale {/7. 0/ the E. Ch., 1862). 



"T^IS the day of Resurrection 

-*- Earth, tell it out abroad ! 
The Passover of gladness. 

The Passover of God ! 
From death to life eternal, 

From earth unto the sky. 
Our Christ hath brought us over, 

With hymns of victory. 



COME, YE FAITHFUL, RAISE THE STRAIN. 243 

Our hearts be pure from evil, 

That we may see aright 
The Lord in rays eternal 

Of resurrection light : 
And, listening to His accents. 

May hear, so calm and plain. 
His own " All hail ! " — and hearing, 

May raise the victor strain. 

Now let the heavens be joyful ! 

Let earth her song begin ! 
Let the round world keep triumph, 

And all that is therein : 
In grateful exultation 

Their notes let all things blend, 
For Christ the Lord hath risen. 

Our joy that hath no end. 



COME, YE FAITHFUL, RAISE THE 
STRAIN. 

('AfTw/zev Tiavreg "kaoi.) 



From the Greek of St. John of Damascus, 787, by Dr. J. M. Neale. This 
ode is the first of his canon for St. Thomas's Sunday, called also Renewal Sunday, or 
Low Sunday. 

/"^OME, ye faithful, raise the strain 
^^ Of triumphant gladness ! 
God hath brought His Israel 
Into joy from sadness ; 



^^. 



244 THE RESURRECTION. 

Loosed from Pharaoh's bitter yoke 
Jacob's sons and daughters ; 

Led them with unmoistened foot 
Through the Red Sea waters. 

'Tis the spring of souls to-day : 

Christ hath burst His prison ; 
And from three days' sleep in death, 

As a sun, hath risen. 
All the winter of our sins. 

Long and dark, is flying 
From His light, to whom we give 

Laud and praise undying. 

Now the queen of seasons, bright 

With the day of splendor. 
With the royal Feast of feasts, 

Comes its joy to render : 
Comes to glad Jerusalem, 

Who with true affection 
Welcomes, in unwearied strains, 

Jesu's Resurrection. 

Neither might the gates of death, 

Nor the tomb's dark portal. 
Nor the watchers, nor the seal, 

Hold Thee as a mortal : 
But to-day amidst the twelve 

Thou didst stand, bestowing 
That Thy peace, which evermore 

Passeth human knowing. 



THIS HOLY MORN., SO FAIR AND BRIGHT. 245 



THIS HOLY MORN, SO FAIR x\ND 
BRIGHT. 

{Aurora cesium j>urpuratJ) 



Free, from the Latin of the Roman Breviary (Dominica in Albis), by the Rev. J. 
Chandler, 1837. Two different texts of this ancient kymmis paschalis in Daniel, 
I. p. 83 ; MoNE, I. p. 190 ("Aurora lucis rutilat"). Mone found a copy at Reichenau 
from the beginning of the ninth century. The Latin text is often divided into two 
hymns. Another version by Caswall : " The Dawn was purpHng over the sky ; " 
and in the Hynifial Noted: "Light's glittering mom bedecks the sky." Compare 
also the next hymn. 



^ I ^HIS holy morn, so fair and bright, 

Shall hear our praises swell : 
For oh, what joy prevails on earth, 
What wild despair in hell ! 

This morn our mighty King arose 
From death's infernal cave, 

And many a saint, to welcome Him, 
Hath left his ancient grave. 

In vain they sealed His sepulchre, 
And watched around His tomb : 

The Lord hath gained the victory, 
And death is overcome. 



5 \ 



246 



THE RESURRECTION. 

Then calm your grief, dismiss your fears, 

Let no more tears be shed : 
The mighty Vanquisher of death 

Is risen from the dead. 

Oh, Jesu ! may we ever Hve 

From sin and sorrow free ; 
Then let us ever die to sin, 

And ever live to Thee. 



THE MORNING PURPLES ALL THE SKY. 

(^Aurora caelum purpurat.) 



On the basis of the same hymn of the Roman Breviary for the Dominica in Albis. 
Daniel, I. 83. By Dr. A. R. Thompson, New York, 1S67. Contributed. 



'HPHE morning purples all the sky, 

The air with praises rings ; 
Defeated hell stands sullen by, 

The world exulting sings : 
Glory to God ! our glad lips cry ; 

All praise and worship be 
On earth, in heaven, to God Most High, 

For Christ's great victor}^ ! 

While He, the King all strong to save, 
Rends the dark doors away. 

And through the breaches of the grave 
Strides forth into the dav. 



THE MORNING PURPLES ALL THE SKY. 247 

Glory to God ! our glad lips cry ; 

All praise and worship be 
On earth, in heaven, to God Most High, 

For Christ's great victory ! 

Death's captive, in his gloomy prison 

Fast fettered He has lain ; 
But He has mastered death, is risen, 

And death wears now the chain. 
Glory to God ! our glad lips cry ; 

All praise and worship be 
On earth, in heaven, to God Most High, 

For Christ's great victory I 

The shining angels cry, " Away 

With grief; no spices bring ; 
Not tears, but songs, this joyful day, 

Should greet the rising King ! " 
Glory to God ! our glad lips cry : 

All praise and worship be 
On earth, in heaven, to God most High, 

For Christ's great victory ! 

That Thou our Paschal Lamb mayst be, 

And endless joy begin, 
Jesus, Deliverer, set us free 

From the dread death of sin. 
Glory to God ! our glad lips cry ; 

All praise and worship be 
On earth, in heaven, to God Most High, 

For Christ's great victory ! 



i 



248 



THE RESURRECTION. 



HALLELUJAH ! HALLELUJAH ! 

{Alleluia. Alleluia I finitajam sutzt proelia.^ 



From the Latin of the 12th century (see Daniel, II. 363), translated by Dr. J. M. 
Neale {Mediceval Hymns and Sequences, 3d ed. 1867, p. 168). 



TTALLELUJAH ! Hallelujah I 
-■- -*- Finished is the battle now : 
The crown is on the Victor's brow ! 

Hence with sadness I 

Sing with gladness, 
Hallelujah ! 

Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 

After sharp death that him befell, 

Jesus Christ hath conquered hell. 

Earth is singing, 

Heaven is ringing. 
Hallelujah ! 

Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 

On the third morning He arose. 

Bright with victory o'er his foes. 

Sing we lauding. 

And applauding. 
Hallelujah ! 



BEHOLD THE DAY THE LORD HATH MADE . 249 

Hallelujah! Hallelujah! 

He hath closed hell's brazen door, 

And heaven is open evermore ! 

Hence with sadness ! 

Sing with gladness, 
Hallelujah ! 

Hallelujah! Hallelujah! 

Lord, by Thy wounds we call on Thee, 

So from ill death to set us free, 

That our living 

Be thanksgiving ! 
Hallelujah ! 



BEHOLD THE DAY THE LORD HATH 
MADE ! 

(^Salve, Dies dierum gloria.^ 



From the Latin of Adam of St. Victor, the most fertile, and, in the estimation 
of Trench and Neale, the greatest of the Latin hymnologists of the middle ages, d. at 
Paris after 1172. Shipley's Lyra Messiamca, p. 340. He wrote several Easter 
hymns, — " Mundi Renovatio;" "Zyma vetus expurgetur ; '' "Ecce dies Celebris," 
&c. See Trenxh, p. 161, seq. 



"D EHOLD the Day the Lord hath made ! 
-■-^ That peerless day which cannot fade ; 
That day of light, that day of joy. 
Of glory which shall never cloy. 



9 



% 



250 



THE RESURRECTION. 



The day on which the world was framed 
Has signal honor ever claimed ; 
But Christ, arising from the dead, 
Unrivalled brightness o'er it shed. 

In hope of their celestial choice, 
Now let the sons of light rejoice : 
Christ's members in their lives declare 
What likeness to their Head they bear. 

For solemn is our feast to-day. 
And solemn are the vows we pay : 
This day's surpassing greatness claims 
Surpassing joy, surpassing aims. 

The Paschal victory displays 
The glory of our festal days ; 
Which type and shadow dimly bore. 
In promise to the saints of yore. 

The veil is rent; and, lo ! unfold 
The things the ancient Law foretold : 
The figure from the substance flies, 
And light the shadow's place supplies. 



The type the spotless Lamb conveyed, 
The goat, where Israel's sins were laid ; 
Messiah, purging our offence. 
Disclosed in all their hidden sense. 



NOW THY GENTLE LAMB, O SION ! 25 1 



By freely yielding up His breath, 
He freed us from the bonds of death, 
Who on that Prey forbidden flew, 
And lost the prey that was his due. 

The ills on sinful flesh that lay 
His sinless flesh hath done away. 
Which blooming fresh on that third morn 
Assurance gave to souls forlorn. 

O wondrous Death of Christ ! may we 
Be made to live to Christ by thee ! 
O deathless Death, destroy our sin. 
Give us the prize of life to win ! 



NOW THY GENTLE LAMB, O SION. 

{Mitis Agnus, Leo fortis.') 



Translated from the Latin by H. Trend. The original in Du MKI^IL, IT. 53; 
and Daniel, IV. 160. 



IVrOW thy gentle Lamb, O Sion, 

"^ ^ Shows the strength of Judah's Lion 

Hell's stern fetters hold Him not : 
Dawns the third day o'er His prison, 
And our Mighty Saviour risen, 

Makes us share His glorious lot. 



& 



i 



252 THE RESURRECTION. 

Holy women, with devotion 

Such as springs from love's emotion, 

Bring sweet unguents to His tomb ; 
There, O wonderful transition ! 
Worthy of the heavenly vision. 

Glory meets them in the gloom. 

One in faith that scorns defection. 
Equal in their warm affection 

For His name whose grave they seek. 
Back they see the stone is taken. 
And the opened tomb forsaken. 

Whence they hear an Angel speak : 

Fear not, loving souls ; but going 
Quickly back, the vision showing. 

Say to Peter and the rest : 
Jesus lives, o'er death victorious, 
Now to reign for ever glorious, 

In the regions of the blest. ^ 



1 " Festinantes ite retro ; 
Nuntiantes visa Petro 

Casterisque propere ! 
Resurrexit vere Jesus ; 
Immortalis et illaesus 

Vivit iam in aethere." 



JESUS CHRIST IS RISEN TO-DAY. 253 



JESUS CHRIST IS RISEN TO-DAY. 

(^Surrexit Christ us kodie.^ 



Reproduced from a Latin hymn of the isth century, which exists in different form-^. 
See Wackernagel, I. pp. 175-177; Daniel, I. 341. Roundell Palmer (No. LX.) 
adds a HalleUijah to each Ime, and erroneously ascribes the hymn to the year 1762, 
the last stanza (which d'.ffers from ours) to Charles Wesley. 



TESUS Christ is risen to-day, 
^ Our triumphant holy day ; 
Who did once upon the cross 
Suffer to redeem our loss. 
Hallelujah ! 

Hymns of praise then let us sing 
Unto Christ, our heavenly King ; 
Who endured the cross and grave, 
Sinners to redeem and save. 
Hallelujah ! 

But the pains which He endured 
Our salvation have procured ; 
Now above the sky He's King, 
Where the angels ever sing. 
Hallelujah ! 

Now be God the Father praised. 
With the Son, from death upraised. 
And the Spirit, ever blest ; 
One true God, by all confest. 
Hallelujah ! 





"^ 






^ 




•» 




<• 




d 






) 


t 


254 THE RESURRECTION. 






u 




LET ZION'S SONS AND DAUGHTERS 






SAY. 










(O J^ilii e^ I^i7/(E.) 










Translated from the Latin, by Prof. Thomas C. Porter, Easton 
1859; revised, April, 186S. Contributed. Another translation, by 
("Alleluia! ye sons and daughters of the King.") 13th century. 


Pa. 
Dr. 


March, 
Neale 






T ET Zion's sons and daughters say : 

^ " Heaven's glorious King, our King 
Hath broke the bonds of death to-day ! " 






for 


aye, 






Hallelujah ! 










Their Sabbath o'er, with sweet perfume, 










Amid the morning's early gloom. 
His followers hasten to the tomb. 










Hallelujah ! 










With Mary Magdalene view 
Salome, — James's mother too ; 










They come the sacred corse t' imbue. 










Hallelujah ! 










White-robed and seated on the stone, 










God's angel speaks in thrilling tone : 
"Your Lord to Galilee hath gone." 








c 


Hallelujah ! 






> 










" 3 




^ 


G 






<^ 






^ 



LET ZIONS SONS AND DAUGHTERS SAY. 255 

His best-beloved, with eager pace, 
Outstripping Peter in the race, 
First Cometh to th' appointed place. 
Hallelujah ! 

Where gathered His disciples true, 
There in the midst Christ stood to view. 
Proclaiming : " Peace be unto you ! " 
Hallelujah ! 

When Didymus now heard it said, 
That Jesus rising left the dead. 
Strong doubt possessed his heart and head. 
Hallelujah ! 

"See, Thomas, see My wounded side, 
These hands and feet ! " the Saviour cried, 
"Doubt not: believe; in Me confide." 
Hallelujah ! 

When Thomas searched with earnest heed 
Feet, hands, and side, from doubting freed. 
He said : " Thou art my God indeed I " 
Hallelujah ! 

Who have not seen with mortal eyes. 
And yet believe, shall win the prize. 
Eternal life beyond the skies. 
Hallelujah ! 



256 THE RESURRECTION. 

Upon this hallowed festal day, 
Triumphant swell the joyful lay ; 
O let us bless the Lord alway ! 
Hallelujah ! 

For grace like this, so rich and free, 
Most humble thanks we pay to Thee, 
Great Three in One and One in Three ! 
Hallelujah ! 



MARY! PUT THY GRIEF AWAY. 

{Pone lucttim, Magdalena !) 



From the Latin. Daniel, II. p. 365. By W. J. C. {Lj/ra Mess., p. 328). Mary 
Magdalena is here, as in the D/es Ira- and other Latin hymns, identified with the sin- 
ful woman, Luke v;i. 37. See the note in Trench, p. 159. 



ly/TARY ! put thy grief away, 

-^ And thy drooping eyelid clear : 

'Tis not Simon's feast to-day, 
'Tis no time to shed a tear ; 

There are thousand springs of joy, 

Thousand springs of transport high. 

Mary ! learn to smile again, 

Let thy beaming forehead brighten ; 

Far is banished every pain. 

Now the Sun of suns doth lighten : 

Christ the world from death hath freed ; 

Yea, the Lord is risen indeed. 



STILL THY SORROW, MAGDALENA ! 257 

Mary ! leap for j 03^ and gladness, 

Christ hath triumphed o'er the tomb ; 

He hath closed the scene of sadness. 
He of death hath sealed the doom ; 

Whom thou late in death wast mourning, 

Welcome now to life returning. 

Mary ! lift thy trembling glance. 
View Him risen with deep amaze ; 

See ! how fair that countenance I 
On those wounds resplendent gaze ; 

How like purest pearls they shine, 

Sparkling all with life Divine ! 

Mary ! live, yea, live again. 

Now thy Light again hath shone ; 

Transport swell through every vein, 
Now the sting of death has gone : 

Far awa}'^ be gloom and sadness, 

All once more be joy and gladness. 



STILL THY SORROW, MAGDALENA! 

{Po7ie luctzcm, Magdalena /) 



Anotlier and better version of this sweet and cheering Easter hymn, by the Rev. 
Dr. E. A. Washburn, New York, June, iS6S. Contributed. 



OTILL thy sorrow, Magdalena ! 

Wipe the tear-drops from thine eyes ; 
Not at Simon's board thou kneelest. 
Pouring thy repentant sighs : 
17 



258 THE RESURRECTION. 

All with thy glad heart rejoices ; 
All things sing with happy voices, 
Hallelujah ! 



Laugh with rapture, Magdalena ! 

Be thy drooping forehead bright ; 
Banished now is every anguish. 

Breaks anew thy morning light : 
Christ from death the world hath freed ; 
He is risen, is risen indeed : 
Hallelujah ! 

Joy ! exult, O Magdalena I 

He hath burst the rocky prison ; 

Ended are the days of darkness ; 
Conqueror hath He arisen. 

Mourn no more the Christ departed ; 

Run to welcome Him, glad-hearted : 
Hallelujah ! 

Lift thine e3^es, O Magdalena ! 

See ! thy living Master stands ; 
See His face, as ever, smiling ; 

See those wounds upon His hands, 
On His feet, His sacred side, — 
Gems that deck the Glorified : 
Hallelujah ! 



CHRIST THE LORD IS RISEN AGAIN I 259 

Live, now live, O Magdalena ! 

Shining is thy new-born day ; 
Let thy bosom pant with pleasure. 

Death's poor terror flee away ; 
Far from thee the tears of sadness. 
Welcome love, and welcome gladness ! 
Hallelujah ! 



CHRIST THE LORD IS RISEN AGAIN! 

(^Ckristus ist erstanden.~) 



An Easter hymn of the Bohemian Brethren, translated into German by Mi- 
chael Weiss, 1531, and, after him, into English by Miss C. Winkworth, 1858 
(Z. G., II. 62). The German begins, like similar medizeval hymns: " Christus ist 
erstanden von des Todes Ban den " (in Knapp's Liederschatz, 3d ed., No. 626). 
Compare the note on the next hymn. 



/^^HRIST the Lord is risen again ! 
^^ Christ hath broken every chain ! 
Hark ! the angels shout for joy, 
Singing evermore on high : 
Hallelujah ! 

He who gave for us His life. 
Who for us endured the strife, 



^ 


^ 


^ 


c^ 




^) 


i 


260 THE RESURRECTION. 

Is our Paschal Lamb to-day ! 
We, too, sing for joy, and say : 
Hallelujah ! 

He who bore all pain and loss 
Comfortless upon the cross. 
Lives in glory now on high. 
Pleads for us and hears our cry : 
Hallelujah ! 

He whose path no records tell, 
Who descended into hell. 
Who the strong man armed hath bound, 
Now in the highest heaven is crowned : 
Hallelujah ! 

He who slumbered in the grave, 
Is exalted now to save ; 
Now through Christendom it rings 
That the Lamb is King of kings : 
Hallelujah ! 

Now He bids us tell abroad. 
How the lost may be restored, 
How the penitent forgiven. 
How we, too, may enter heaven : 
Hallelujah ! 


U 


c\ 


Thou our Paschal Lamb indeed, 
Christ, to-day Thy people feed ; 


» 


c 




^ 


J 


- c — 


M 



IN THE BONDS OF DEATH HE LAY. 261 

Take our sins and guilt away ; 
Let us sing by night and day : 
Hallelujah ! 



IN THE BONDS OF DEATH HE LAY. 

(^Christ lag in Todesbatiden.') 



Frcra the German of Dr. Martin Luther, 1524 (Schaff's G. H. B,, No. 132; 
Lyra Germ., I. p. 87). Based upcn a Latin hj-mn of the 15th centurj' : " Surrexit Chris- 
tus hodie " (Daniel, I. 341 ; and Wackernagel, I. 175-177, who gives five forms), 
also upon an old German Easter hymn: "Christ ist erstanden" (several forms in 
Wackernagel, II. 43 and 726-737). Luther's hymn is a great improvement upon its 
predecessors. 



TN the bonds of Death He lay, 

Who for our offence was slain ; 
But the Lord is risen to-day, 

Christ hath brought us life again. 
Wherefore let us all rejoice, 
Singing loud, with cheerful voice : 
Hallelujah ! 

Of the sons of men was none 

Who could break the bonds of Death : 
Sin this mischief dire had done. 

Innocent was none on earth ; 
Wherefore Death grew strong and bold. 
Would all men in his prison hold : 
Hallelujah ! 



5 



262 THE RESURRECTION. 

Jesus Christ, God's only Son, 

Came at last our foe to smite ; 
All our sins away hath done, 

Done away Death's power and right ; 
Only the form of Death is left. 
Of his sting he is bereft : 
Hallelujah ! 

That was a wondrous war I trow, 

When Life and Death together fought ; 

But Life hath triumphed o'er his foe, 
Death is mocked and set at nought ; 

'Tis even as the Scripture saith, 

Christ through death has conquered Death : 
Hallelujah ! 1 

The rightful Paschal Lamb is He, 
On whom alone we all must live, 

Who to death upon the tree, 

Himself in wondrous love did give. 

Faith strikes His blood upon the door. 

Death sees, and dares not harm us more : 
Hallelujah ! 

1 In the original, this description of the marvellous duel be- 
tween Life and Death is peculiarly forcible : — 

" Es war ein wunderlicher Krieg, 

Da Tod und Leben rungen ; 
Das Leben das behielt den Sieg, 

Es hat den Tod verschlungen. 
Die Schrift hat verklindet das, 
Wie da ein Tod den andem frass : 

Ein Spott aus dem Tod ist worden. Hallelujah." 






ERE YET THE DAWN HAS FILLED THE SKIES. 263 

Let US keep high festival, 

On this most blessed Day of days, 

When God His mercy showed to all ! ' 
Om- Sun is risen with brightest rays ; 

And our dark hearts rejoice to see 

Sin and night before Him flee : 
Hallelujah ! 

To the Supper of the Lord, 

Gladly will we come to-day : 
The word of peace is now restored, 

The old leaven is put away. 
Christ will be our food alone, 
Faith no life but His doth own : 
Hallelujah ! 



ERE YET THE DAWN HAS FILLED 
THE SKIES. 

{FruJi morgens da die Sonn^ aufgeht.') 



From the German of Johann Heermann, 1630. The original has nineteen stan- 
zas, but is abridged in all the German hymn-books. Lyra Germ., II. 64. 



"pRE yet the dawn has filled the skies, 
-*—' Behold my Saviour Christ arise. 
He chaseth from us sin and night. 
And brings us joy and life and light : 
Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 



264 THE RESURRECTION. 

stronger Thou than Death and Hell ! 
Where is the foe Thou canst not quell? 
What heavy stone Thou canst not roll 
From off the prisoned anguished soul? 

Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 

If Jesus lives, can I be sad? 

1 know He loves me, and am glad ; 
Though all the world were dead to me, 
Enough, O Christ, if I have Thee ! 

Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 

He feeds me, comforts and defends, 
And when I die His angel sends 
To bear me whither He is gone. 
For of His own He loseth none : 
Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 

No more to fear or grief I bow, 
God and the angels love me now ; 
The joys prepared for me to-day 
Drive fear and mourning far away : 
Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 

Strong Champion ! For this comfort see 
The whole world brings her thanks to Thee ; 
And once we, too, shall raise above 
More sweet and loud the song of love : 
Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 



JESUS, MY REDEEMER, LIVES. 265 

JESUS, MY REDEEMER, LIVES. 

(jfesus, meine Zuversicht.') 



From the German of Louisa Henrietta, Electress of Brandenburg, 1649, after 
the death of her first son (Schaff, No. 488). A favorite German hymn. Based on 
Job xix. 25-27, and i Cor. xv. Translated by Miss C. Winkworth, 1855. Other 
translations in the English Moravian hymn-book, and in Sacred Lyrics front the 
German, 1859 ("Jesus, my eternal trust. And my Saviour, ever Hveth"). 



TESUS, my Redeemer, lives, 
^ Christ, my trust, is dead no more ! 
In the strength this knowledge gives. 

Shall not all my fears be o'er ; 
Calm, though death's long night be fraught 
Still with many an anxious thought? 

Jesus, my Redeemer, lives. 

And His life I soon shall see ; 
Bright the hope this promise gives ; 

Where He is, I too shall be. 
Shall I fear then? Can the Head 
Rise and leave the members dead? 

Close to Him my soul is bound. 
In the bonds of hope enclasped ; 

Faith's strong hand this hold hath found. 
And the Rock hath firmly grasped. 

Death shall ne'er my soul remove 

From her refuge in Thy love. 



266 THE RESURRECTION. 

I shall see Him with these eyes, 
Him whom I shall surely know ; 

Not another shall I rise ; 

With His love my heart shall glow ; 

Only there shall disappear 

Weakness in and round me here. 

Ye who suffer, sigh and moan, 

Fresh and glorious there shall reign ; 

Earthly here the seed is sown. 
Heavenly it shall rise again ; 

Natural here the death we die. 

Spiritual our life on high. 

Body, be thou of good cheer. 
In thy Saviour's care rejoice ; 

Give not place to gloom and fear, 

Dead, thou yet shalt know His voice, 

When the final trump is heard. 

And the deaf, cold grave is stirred. 

Laugh to scorn, then, death and hell. 
Fear no more the gloomy grave ; 

Caught into the air to dwell 

With the Lord who comes to save, 

We shall trample on our foes, 

Mortal weakness, fear, and woes. 

Only see ye that your heart 
Rise betimes from earthly lust ; 



cfl^ : ^ 



O RISEN LORD ! O CONQITERING KING ! 267 

Would ye there with Him have part, 

Here obey your Lord and trust. 
Fix your hearts beyond the skies, 
Whither ye yourselves would rise ! 



O RISEN LORD! O CONQUERING 
KING! 

((9 auf er stand' ner Siegesfurst^ 



From the German of Dr. Justus H. Boehmkr (a celebrated jurist ; bom at Han- 
over, 1674; died at Halle, 1749), 1705. Translated by C. Winkworth. 



r\ RISEN Lord ! O conquering King ! 
^^ O Life of all that live ! 
To-day that peace of Easter bring 
Which only Thou canst give ! 

Once Death, our foe. 

Had laid Thee low : 
Now hast Thou rent his bonds in twain, 
Now art Thou risen who once wast slain ! 

The power of Thy great majesty 
Bursts rocks and tombs away. 
Thy victory raises us with Thee 
Into the glorious day ; 
Now Satan's might 
And Death's dark night 



268 



THE RESURRECTION. 



Have lost their power this blessed morn, 
And we to higher life are born. 

Oh that our hearts might inly know 

Thy victory over death, 
And gazing on Thy conflict glow 
With eager, dauntless faith ! 
Thy quenchless light, 
Thy glorious might 
Still comfortless and lonely leave 
The soul that cannot yet believe. 

Then break through our hard hearts Thy way, 

O Jesus, conquering King ! 
Kindle the lamp of faith to-day ; 
Teach our faint hearts to sing 
For joy at length. 
That in Thy strength 
We, too, may rise whom sin had slain, 
And Thine eternal rest attain. 



And, when our tears for sin o'erflow. 

Do Thou in love draw near. 
The precious gift of peace bestow. 
Shine on us bright and clear ; 
That so may we, 
O Christ ! from Thee 
Drink in the life that cannot die. 
And keep true Easter feasts on high. 



BLEST MORNING, WHOSE YOUNG RAYS. 

Yes, let us truly know within 
Thy rising from the dead ; 
And quit the grave of death and sin, 
And keep that gift, our Head, 
That Thou didst leave 
For all who cleave 
To Thee through all this earthly strife : 
So shall we enter into life. 



BLEST MORNING, WHOSE YOUNG RAYS, 



Dr. Isaac Watts, 1674-1748. 



T3LEST morning, whose young dawning rays 
-^"^ Beheld our rising God ; 
That saw Him triumph o'er the dust. 
And leave His dark abode. 



In the cold prison of a tomb 
The dead Redeemer lay. 

Till the revolving skies had brought 
The third, th' appointed day. 

Hell and the grave unite their force 
To hold our God, in vain ; 

The sleeping Conqueror arose. 
And burst their feeble chain. 



270 



THE RESURRECTION. 



To Thy great name, Almighty Lord, 

These sacred hours we pay : 
And loud hosannas shall proclaim 

The triumph of the day. 

Salvation and immortal praise 

To our victorious King ! 
Let heaven and earth, and rocks and seas, 

With glad hosannas ring ! 



WELCOME, THOU VICTOR IN THE STRIFE ! 

( Willkommen^ Held im Sirette.') 



Benjamin Schmolke, 1712 (Schaff, No. 135). Translated by C. Winkworth. 



TT7ELCOME, Thou Victor in the strife, 

' ^ Welcome from out the cave ! 
To-day we triumph in Thy life 
Around Thine empty grave. 

Our enemy is put to shame, 

His short-lived triumph o'er ; 
Our God is with us, we exclaim, 

We fear our foe no more. 

The dwellings of the just resound 

With songs of victory ; 
For in their midst. Thou, Lord, art found, 

And bringest peace with Thee. 



WELCOME, THOU VICTOR IN THE STRIFE ! 2*]\ 



O share with us the spoils, we pray, 

Thou diedst to achieve ! 
We meet within Thy house to-day 

Our portion to receive. 

And let Thy conquering banner wave 
O'er hearts Thou makest free, 

And point the path that from the grave 
Leads heavenwards up to Thee. 

We bury all our sin and crime 
Deep in our Saviour's tomb ; 

And seek the treasure there, that time 
Nor change can e'er consume. 

We die with Thee ; oh, let us live 
Henceforth to Thee aright ! 

The blessings Thou hast died to give 
Be daily in our sight. 

Fearless we lay us in the tomb. 

And sleep the night away. 
If Thou art there to break the gloom, 

And call us back to day. 

Death hurts us not ; his power is gone, 
And pointless are his darts ; 

God's favor now on us hath shone, 
Joy filleth all our hearts. 



272 THE RESURRECTION. 



GLORIOUS HEAD, THOU LI VEST NOW! 



Part of a German hymn of G. Tersteegen (1731), which commences "Will- 
komm, verkliirter Gottessohn." The stanzas here translated by Miss C. Wink- 
worth are verses 7-10 (" Verklartes Haupt ! nun lebest Du," &c.). 



r\ GLORIOUS Head, Thou livest now ! 
^-^ Let us, Thy members, share Thy Hfe ; 
Canst Thou behold their need, nor bow 
To raise Thy children from the strife 
With self and sin, with death and dark distress, 
That they may live to Thee in holiness ? 

Earth knows Thee not, but evermore 
Thou livest in Paradise, in peace ; 

Thither my soul would also soar. 
Let me from all the creatures cease : 

Dead to the world, but to Thy Spirit known, 

I live to Thee, O Prince of life ! alone. 

Break through my bonds whate'er it cost ; 

What is not Thine within me slay ; 
Give me the lot I covet most, 

To rise as Thou hast risen to-day. 
Nought can I do, a slave to death I pine : 
Work Thou in me, O Power and Life Divine ! 



"CHRIST THE LORD IS RISEN TO-DAY." 273 

Work Thou in me, and heavenward guide 
My thoughts and wishes, that my heart 

Waver no more nor turn aside, 
But fix for ever where Thou art. 

Thou art not far from us : who love Thee well 

While yet on earth, in heaven with Thee may dwell. 



CHRIST THE LORD IS RISEN TO-DAY. 



Charles Wesley. From his Hymns and Sacred Poems, 1739- 



" /^HRIST the Lord is risen to-day,' 
^-^ Sons of men and angels say : 
Raise your joys and triumphs high ; 
Sing, ye heavens, and earth reply. 

Love's redeeming work is done. 
Fought the fight, the battle won ; 
Lo 1 our Sun's eclipse is o'er ; 
Lo ! He sets in blood no more. 

Vain the stone, the watch, the seal ; 
Christ hath burst the gates of hell ! 
Death in vain forbids His rise ; 
Christ has opened Paradise. 



274 ^^^ RESURRECTION. 

Lives again our glorious King ; 
Where, O Death ! is now thy sting? 
Once He died our souls to save ; 
Where thy victory, O Grave? 

Soar we now where Christ has led, 
Following our exalted Head ; 
Made like Him, like Him we rise ; 
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies. 

What though once we perished all, 
Partners in our parents' fall? 
Second life we all receive. 
In our Heavenly Adam live.^ 

Risen with Him, we upward move ; 
Still we seek the things above ; 
Still pursue and kiss the Son, 
Seated on His Father's throne. 

Scarce on earth a thought bestow, 
Dead to all we leave below ; 
Heaven our aim and loved abode, 
Hid our life with Christ in God : 

Hid, till Christ our life appear 
Glorious in His members here ; 



1 Smoother 



' Second life we now receive, 
And in Chri t for ever live. ' 



JESUS LIVES, AND SO SHALL I. 275 

Joined to Him, we then shall shine. 
All immortal, all divine. 

Hail the Lord of earth and heaven ! 
Praise to Thee by both be given ! 
Thee we greet triumphant now ! 
Hail, the Resurrection Thou ! 

King of glory. Soul of bliss ! 
Everlasting life is this, 
Thee to know. Thy power to prove, 
Thus to sing, and thus to love ! 



JESUS LIVES, AND SO SHALL I, 

{jfcsus lebt, mit Ihm auck ich.) 



From the German of Chr. Furchtegott Gellert, 1757. Another English 
translation, by Frances Elizabeth Cox, commencing, " Jesus lives ! no longer now 
Can thy terrors, Death, appall me." 



TESUS lives, and so shall I : 
^ Death, thy sting is gone for ever 
He who deigned for me to die, 
Lives, the bands of death to sever. 
He shall raise me with the just: 
Jesus is my Hope and Trust. 

Jesus lives, and reigns supreme ; 
And, His kingdom still remaining, 
I shall also be with Him, 



276 THE RESURRECTION. 

Ever living, ever reigning. 
God has promised ; be it must : 
Jesus is my Hope and Trust. 

Jesus lives, and God extends 
Grace to each returning sinner ; 
Rebels He receives as friends, 
And exalts to highest honor. 
God is true as He is just : 
Jesus is my Hope and Trust. 

Jesus lives, and by His grace. 
Victory o'er my passions giving, 
I will cleanse my heart and ways, 
Ever to His glory living. 
Th' weak He raises from the dust : 
Jesus is my Hope and Trust. 

Jesus lives, and I am sure 
Naught shall e'er from Jesus sever : 
Satan's wiles and Satan's power. 
Pain or pleasure, ye shall never ! 
Christian armor cannot rust : 
Jesus is my Hope and Trust. 

Jesus lives, and death is now 
But my entrance into glory. 
Courage ! then, my soul, for thou 
Hast a crown of life before thee ; 
Thou shalt find thy hopes were just 
Jesus is the Christian's Trust. 



I SAY TO ALL MEN, FAR AND NEAR. 277 



I SAY TO ALL MEN, FAR AND NEAR. 

(^Ich sag es jedeJii, dass Kr lebt.^ 



From the Gennan of Fried, von Hardenberg, better known under the name of 
NovALis, d. 1801. Translated by C. Winkworth. 



T SAY to all men, far and near, 
-^ That He is risen again ; 
That He is with us now and here. 
And ever shall remain. 

And what I say, let each this morn 

Go tell it to his friend. 
That soon in every place shall dawn 

His kingdom without end. 

Now first to souls who thus awake 
Seems earth a fatherland : 

A new and endless life they take 
With rapture from His hand. 

The fears of death and of the grave 
Are whelmed beneath the sea. 

And every heart now light and brave 
May face the things to be. 



278 THE RESURRECTION. 

The way of darkness that He trod 
To heaven at last shall come, 

And he who hearkens to His word 
Shall reach His Father's home. 

Now let the mourner grieve no more, 
Though his beloved sleep ; 

A happier meeting shall restore 
Their light to eyes that weep. 

Now every heart each noble deed 
With new resolve may dare : 

A glorious harvest shall the seed 
In happier regions bear. 

He lives : His presence hath not ceased, 
Though foes and fears be rife ; 

And thus we hail in Easter's feast 
A world renewed to life ! 



COME, YE SAINTS, LOOK HERE AND WONDER. 279 



COME, YE SAINTS, LOOK HERE AND 
WONDER. 



Thomas Kelly; b. 1769, in Dublin; d. 1855. The first edition of his hymn- 
book {96 hymns) appeared in Dubhn, 1S04 ; the seventh (^^^th 765 hjTnns), in 1853. 



/^^OME, ye saints, look here and wonder 
^^ See the place where Jesus lay ; 
He has burst His bands asunder ; 
He has borne our sins away ; 
Joyful tidings I 
Yes, the Lord has risen to-day. 

Jesus triumphs ! Sing ye praises ; 

By His death He overcame : 
Thus the Lord His glory raises, 

Thus He fills His foes with shame. 
Sing ye praises ! 
Praises to the Victor's name. 



Jesus triumphs ! Countless legions 

Come from heaven to meet their King ; 

Soon, in yonder blessed regions, 
The}^ shall join His praise to sing. 
Songs eternal 

Shall through heaven's high arches ring. 



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280 


THE RESURRECTION. 


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MC 

Wi 
rey; d. 


)RNING BREAKS UPON THE TOMB. 






.LiAM Bengo Collyer, D.D., LL.D. ; b. 1782-; minister at Peckham, Sur- 
1S54. He published a Collection of Hymns, 1812. 






1\ yrORNING breaks upon the tomb-, 
-^^■^ Jesus dissipates its gloom ! 
Day of triumph through the skies ; 
See the glorious Saviour rise. 








Christians, dry your flowing tears. 
Chase those unbelieving fears ; 
Look on His deserted grave ; 
Doubt no more His power to save. 








Ye who are of death afraid, 
Triumph in the scattered shade : 
Drive your anxious cares away ; 
See the place where Jesus lay. 








So the rising sun appears. 
Shedding radiance o'er the spheres ; 
So returning beams of light 
Chase the terrors of the night. 




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AGAIN THE LORD OF LIFE AND LIGHT. 28 1 



AGAIN THE LORD OF LIFE AND 
LIGHT. 



Anne Letitia Barbauld, 1743-1825. From her collected works, published 
ib'25, by her niece, Miss Lucy Aikin. 



A GAIN the Lord of life and light 
^ ^ Awakes the kindling ray, 
Unseals the eyelids of the morn, 
And pours increasing day. 

O what a night was that which wrapt 
The heathen world in gloom ! 

O what a sun which broke this day 
Triumphant from the tomb ! 

This day be grateful homage paid. 

And loud hosannas sung ; 
Let gladness dwell in every heart. 

And praise on every tongue. 

Ten thousand differing lips shall join 
To hail this welcome morn, 

Which scatters blessings from its wings 
To nations yet unborn. 



282 



THE RESURRECTION. 



Jesus, the friend of human kind, 
With strong compassion moved, 

Descended, like a pitying God, 
To save the souls He loved. 

The powers of darkness leagued in vain 

To bind His soul in death ; 
He shook their kingdom when He fell. 

With His expiring breath. 

Not long the toils of hell could keep 

The Hope of Judah's line ; 
Corruption never could take hold 

On aught so much Divine. 

And now His conquering chariot wheels 

Ascend the lofty skies ; 
While, broke beneath his powerful cross. 

Death's iron sceptre lies. 

Exalted high at God's right hand. 

And Lord of all below. 
Through Him is pardoning love dispensed. 

And boundless blessings flow. 

And still for erring, guilty man, 

A brother's pity flows ; 
And still His bleeding heart is touched 

With memory of our woes. 






3 






SUN, SHINE FORTH IN ALL THY SPLENDOR. 283 

To Thee, m}^ Saviour and my King, 

Glad homage let me give ; 
And stand prepared, like Thee, to die, 

With Thee that I may live. 



SUN, SHINE FORTH IN ALL THY 
SPLENDOR. 

(^JVandle leiccktender U7id schojier, Ostersofine., deinen Lauf.^ 



From the German of C. J. P. Spitta (d. 1859), 1833. Trsl. by R. Massie, i860. 



OUN, shine forth in all thy splendor, 
^^ Jo}' fully pursue thy way ; 
For thy Lord and my Defender 

Rose triumphant on this day. 
When He bowed His head, sore troubled 

Thou didst hide thyself in night ; 
Shine forth now with rays redoubled. 

He is risen who is thy light. 

Earth, be joyous and glad-hearted, 

Spread out all thy vernal bloom ; 
For thy Lord is not departed, 

He has broken through the tomb. 
When the Lord expired, wide-yawning 

Thy strong rocks were rent with fright ; 
Greet thy risen Lord this morning, 

Bathed in floods of rosy light. 



284 



THE RESURRECTION. 



Say, my soul, what preparation 

Makest thou for this high day, 
When the God of thy salvation 

Opened through the tomb a way ? 
Dwellest thou with pure affection 

On this proof of power and love? 
Doth thy Saviour's resurrection 

Raise thy thoughts to things above ? 

Hast thou, borne on Faith's strong pinion, 

Risen with the risen Lord? 
And, released from sin's dominion, 

Into purer regions soared? 
Or art thou, in spite of warning, 

Dead in trespasses and sin? 
Hath to thee the purple morning 

No true Easter ushered in? 

O, then, let not death o'ertake thee 

By the shades of night o'erspread ! 
See ! thy Lord is come to wake, thee. 

He is risen from the dead.- 
While the time as yet allows thee, 

Hear; the gracious Saviour cries, 
"Sleeper, from thy sloth arouse thee. 

To new life at once arise." 

See, with looks of tender pity 
He extends His wounded hands, 






SUN, SHINE FORTH IN ALL THY SPLENDOR. 285 

Bidding thee, with fond entreaty, 
Shake off sin's enthralling bands : 

"Wait not for some future meetness. 
Dread no punishment from me, 

Rouse thyself, and taste the sweetness 
Of the new life offered thee." 

Let no precious time be wasted. 

To new life arise at length : 
He who death for thee hath tasted. 

For new life will give new strength. 
Try to rise, at once bestir thee. 

Still press on and persevere ; 
Let no weariness deter thee. 

He who woke thee still is near. 

Waste not so much time in weighing 

When and where thou shalt begin ; 
Too much thinking is delaying. 

Rivets but the chain of sin. 
He will help thee and provide thee 

With a courage not thine own, 
Bear thee in His arms and guide thee. 

Till thou learn'st to walk alone. 

See ! thy Lord himself is risen, 

That thou mightest also rise. 
And emerge from sin's dark prison 

To new life and open skies. 



286 



THE RESURRECTION. 



Come to Him who can unbind thee, 
And reverse thy awful doom ; 

Come to Him, and leave behind thee 
Thy old life, — an empty tomb ! 



THE FOE BEHIND, THE DEEP BEFORE. 



By Dr. John Mason Neale (d. 1866), 1851 



T^HE foe behind, the deep before, 

Our hosts have dared and passed the sea ; 
And Pharaoh's warriors strew the shore. 
And Israel's ransomed tribes are free. 
Lift up, lift up your voices now ! 
The whole wdde world rejoices now ! 
The Lord hath triumphed gloriously ! 
The Lord shall reign victoriously ! 
Happy morrow. 
Turning sorrow 
Into peace and mirth ! 
Bondage ending. 
Love descending 
O'er the earth I 
Seals assuring. 
Guards securing. 
Watch His earthly prison : 
Seals are shattered. 
Guards are scattered, 
Christ hath risen ! 



THE FOE BEHIND, THE DEEP BEFORE. 287 

No longer must the mourners weep, 
Nor call departed Christians dead ; 
For death is hallowed into sleep 
And every grave becomes a bed. 

Now once more 

Eden's door 
Open stands to mortal eyes ; 
For Christ hath risen, and men shall rise. 

Now at last. 

Old things past, 
Hope and joy and peace begin : 
For Christ has won, and man shall win. 

It is not exile, rest on high ; 
It is not sadness, peace from strife : 
To fall asleep is not to die ; 
To dwell with Christ is better life. 
Where our banner leads us, 

We may safely go ; 
Where our Chief precedes us, 

We may face the foe. 
His right arm is o'er us. 

He will guide us through : 
Christ hath gone before us ; 
Christians, follow you i 



a 



288 



THE RESURRECTION. 



THE LORD OF LIFE IS RISEN! 

(^Der He I'}' ist aicferstanden.') 



From the German of Dr. J. P. Lange, Professor in Bonn (editor of the well- 
known Biblework), 1851. Translated, at the request of the editor-, by Dr. Henry 
Harbaugh, Mercersburg, Pa., who died, Dec. 28, 1867, before he saw this in print. 
Contributed. 



T 



HE Lord of life is risen ! 
Sing, Easter heralds ! sing : 
He burst His rocky prison, 

Wide let the triumph ring. 
Tell how the graves are quaking, 
The saints their fetters breaking ; 
Sing, heralds : Jesus lives ! 

In death no longer lying. 
He rose, the Prince, to-day : 

Life of the dead and dying. 
He triumphed o'er decay. 

The Lord of Life is risen, 

In ruins lies Death's prison. 
Its keeper bound in chains. 

We hear, in Thy blest greeting, 
Salvation's work is done ! 

We worship Thee, repeating. 
Life for the dead is won ! 



D 



THE LORD OF LIFE IS RISEN ! 2S9 

O Head of all believing ! 
O Joy of all the grieving ! 
Unite us, Lord, to Thee. 

Here at Thy tomb, O Jesus ! 

How sweet the morning's breath ! 
We hear in all the breezes. 

Where is thy sting, O Death ! 
Dark Hell flies in commotion ; 
While, far o'er earth and ocean. 

Loud Hallelujahs ring ! 

O publish this salvation, 

Ye heralds, through the earth ! 
To every buried nation 

Proclaim the day of birth ! 
Till, rising from their slumbers. 
The countless heathen numbers 

Shall hail the risen light. 

Hail, hail, our Jesus risen ! 

Sing, ransomed brethren ! sing ; 
Through Death's dark, gloomy prison, 

Let Easter chorals ring. 
Haste, haste, ye captive legions ! 
Come forth from sin's dark regions, 

In Jesus' Kingdom live. 



19 



U 



290 



THE RESURRECTION. 



THE TOMB IS EMPTY. 



HoRATius BoNAR, D.D. Hymns of Faith and Hope, Second Series, 1862. 



nr^HE tomb is empty ; wouldst thou have it full ? 
^ Still sadly clasping the unbreathing clay : 
O weak in faith, O slow of heart and dull, 
To dote on darkness, and shut out the day I 

The tomb is empty ; He who, three short days, 
After a sorrowing life's long weariness, 
Found refuge in this rocky resting-place. 
Has now ascended to the throne of bliss. 

Here lay the Holy One, the Christ of God, 
He who for death gave death, and life for life ; 
Our heavenly Kinsman, our true flesh and blood ; 
Victor for us on hell's dark field of strife. 

This was the Bethel, where, on stony bed. 
While angels went and came from morn till even. 
Our truer Jacob laid his wearied head ; 
This was to him the very gate of heaven. 

The Conqueror, not the conquered. He to whom 
The keys of death and of the grave belong. 
Crossed the cold threshold of the stranger's tomb, 
To spoil the spoiler and to bind the strong. 



THE TOMB IS EMPTY. 29 1 

Here Death had reign'd ; into no tomb like this 
Had man's fell foe aforetime found his way ; 
So grand a trophy ne'er before was his, • 
So vast a treasm'e, so divine a prey. 

But now his triumph ends ; the rock-barred door 
Is opened wide, and the Great Pris'ner gone : 
Look round and see, upon the vacant floor. 
The napkin and the grave-clothes lie alone. 

Yes : Death's last hope, his strongest fort and prison, 
Is shattered, never to be built again ; 
And He, the mighty Captive, He is risen. 
Leaving behind the gate, the bar, the chain. 

Yes, He is risen who is the First and Last; 
Who was and is ; who liveth and was dead : 
Beyond the reach of death He now has passed, 
Of the one glorious Church the glorious Head. 

The tomb is empty ; so, ere long, shall be 
The tombs of all who in this Christ repose ; 
They died with Him who died upon the tree. 
They live and rise with Him who lived and rose. 

Death has not slain them ; they are freed, not slain. 
It is the gate of life, and not of death. 
That they have entered ; and the grave in vain 
Has tried to stifle the immortal breath. 



292 THE RESURRECTION. 

All that was death in them is now dissolved : 
For death can only what is death's destroy ; 
And, when this earth's short ages have revolved, 
The disimprisoned life comes forth with joy. 

Their life-long battle with disease and pain 
And mortal weariness is over now : 
Youth, health, and comeliness return again ; 
The tear has left the cheek, the sweat the brow. 

They are not tasting death, but taking rest. 
On the same holy couch where Jesus lay. 
Soon to awake all glorified and blest, 
When day has broke and shadows fled away. 



ANGELS, ROLL THE ROCK AWAY. 



Gibbons (?). From an Episcopal Collection. 



A NGELS, roll the rock away ! 
^ Death, yield up the mighty prey ! 
See, the Saviour quits the tomb. 
Glowing with immortal bloom. 

Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 
Christ the Lord is risen to-day. 



O JESUS ! WHEN I THINK OF THEE. 293 

Shout, ye seraphs; angels, raise 
Your eternal song of praise ; 
Let the earth's remotest bound 
Echo to the blissful sound : 

Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 
Christ the Lord is risen to-day. 

Holy Father, Holy Son, 
Holy Spirit Three in One, 
Glory as of old to Thee 
Now and evermore shall be ! 
Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 
Christ the Lord is risen to-day. 



O JESUS! WHEN I THINK OF THEE. 



By George W. Bethune, D.D. ; died 1862, on a Sabbath, in Florence, on which 
he preached his last sermon. First published in his Memoir, by Dr. A. R. van 
Nest, New York, 1S67, p. 423. 



r\ JESUS ! when I think of Thee, 
^^ Thy manger, cross, and throne. 
My spirit trusts exultingly 
In Thee, and Thee alone. 

I see Thee in Thy weakness first ; 

Then, glorious from Thy shame, 
I see Thee death's strong fetters burst, 

And reach heaven's mightiest name. 



294 THE RESURRECTION. 

In each a brother's love I trace 

By power divine exprest, 
One in Thy Father God's embrace, 

As on Thy mother's breast. 

For me Thou didst become a man, 
For me didst weep and die ; 

For me achieve Thy wondrous plan, 
For me ascend on high. 

O let me share Thy holy birth, 
Thy faith. Thy death to sin ! 

And, strong amidst the toils of earth. 
My heavenly life begin. 

Then shall I know what means the strain 

Triumphant of Saint Paul : 
" To live is Christ, to die is gain ; " 

''Christ is my all in all." 



AWAKE, GLAD SOUL ! AWAKE ! AWAKE ! 



By John S. B. Monsell, LL.D., Vicar of Egham. From his Hymris of Love 
and Praise, Lond. 1863. "Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the 
Lord is risen upon thee." — Isa. Ix. i. 



A WAKE, glad soul ! awake ! awake ! 
■^ -^ Thy Lord hath risen long. 
Go to His grave, and with thee take 
Both tuneful heart and song ; 



AWAKE, GLAD SOUL 1 AWAKE ! AWAKE ! 295 

Where life is waking all around, 

Where love's sweet voices sing, 
The first bright Blossom may be found 

Of an Eternal Spring. 

O Love ! which lightens all distress. 

Love, death cannot destroy : 
O Grave ! whose very emptiness 

To Faith is full of joy ; 
Let but that Love our hearts supply 

From Heaven's exhaustless Spring, 
Then, Grave, where is thy victory? 

And, Death, where is thy sting? 

The shade and gloom of life are fled 

This Resurrection-day ; 
Henceforth in Christ are no more dead, 

The grave hath no more prey : 
In Christ we live, in Christ we sleep. 

In Christ we wake and rise ; 
And the sad tears death makes us weep, 

He wipes from all our eyes. 

And every bird and every tree 

And every opening flower 
Proclaim His glorious victory, 

His resurrection-power : 
The folds are glad, the fields rejoice. 

With vernal verdure spread ; 



296 THE RESURRECTION. 

The little hills lift up their voice, 
And shout that Death is dead. 

Then wake, glad heart ! awake ! awake ! 

And seek thy risen Lord, 
Joy in his resurrection take. 

And comfort in His word ; 
And let thy life, through all its ways, 

One long thanksgiving be. 
Its theme of joy, its song of praise, 

" Christ died, and rose for me." 



IN THY GLORIOUS RESURRECTION. 



By Dr. Chr. Wordsworth, Archdeacon of Westminster. From his The Holy 
Year I or, Hymtisfor S^mdays and Holy days, Sec, 3d ed., Lond. 1863, p. 105. 



TN Thy glorious Resurrection, 
Lord, we see a world's erection : 

Man in Thee is glorified ; 
Bliss for which the Patriarchs panted, 
Joys by ancient sages chanted, 

Now in Thee are verified. 

Oracles of former ages. 
Veiled in dim prophetic pages. 
Now lie open to the sight ; 



IN THY GLORIOUS RESURRECTION. 297 

Now the Types, which glimmered darkling 
In the twilight gloom, are sparkling 
In the blaze of noonday light. 

Isaac from the wood is risen ; 
Joseph issues from the prison ; 

See the Paschal Lamb which saves. 
Israel through the sea is landed ; 
Pharaoh and his hosts are stranded, 

And o'er whelmed in the waves. 

See the cloudy Pillar leading, 
Rock refreshing. Manna feeding ; 

Joshua fights , and Moses prays : 
See the lifted Wave-sheaf, cheering 
Pledge of Harvest-fruits appearing, 

Joyful dawn of happy days. 

Samson see at night uptearing 
Gaza's brazen gates, and bearing 

To the top of Hebron's hill ; 
Jonah comes from stormy surges. 
From his three days' grave emerges, 

Bids beware of coming ill. 

Thus Thy Resurrection's glory 
Sheds a light on ancient story ; 

And it casts a forward ray, — 
Beacon-light of solemn warning, 



298 THE RESURRECTION. 

To the dawn of that great morning 
Ushering in the Judgment-Day. 

Ever since Thy death and rising 
Thou the nations art baptizing 

In Thy death's simihtude ; 
Dead to sin, and ever dying, 
And our members mortifying. 

May we walk with life renewed ! 

Forth, from Thy first Easter going, 
Sundays are for ever flowing 

Onward to a boundless sea ; 
Lord, may they for Thee prepare us, 
On a holy river bear us 

To a calm eternity ! 

Glory be to God the Father, 
And to Him who all does gather 

In Himself, the Eternal Son, 
And the dead to life upraises ; 
And to Holy Ghost be praises : 

Glory to the Three in One. 



SING ALOUD, CHILDREN ! 299 



SING ALOUD, CHILDREN! 



An Easter hymn for cliildren, by the Rev. Dr. A. R. Thojipson, New York, 1863 
Contributed. 



OING aloud, children ! sing to the glorious King 
^^ Of Redemption, who sits on the throne ; 
For the seraphim high veil their faces, and cry, 
And the angels are praising the Son. 

With His raiment blood-dyed, and with wounds in 
His side. 
He returns like a chief from the war, 
Where His champion blow hath laid death and hell 
low. 
And hath driven destruction afar. 

Not a helper stood by when the foemen drew nigh, 
And arrayed their leagued hosts for the fight ; 

But He met them alone, and the victory won 
By His own irresistible might. 

Yes ! the triumph He won ! Give the Crucified Son 

Hallelujahs of praise ever new ; 
Hail Him, children, and say, Hallelujah ! to-day; 

For the Saviour is risen for vou. 



300 



THE RESURRECTION. 



WHY SHOULD THESE EYES BE JEARFUL? 



"The Victory of Faith." i Cor. xvi. 57. By Dr. Ray Palmer. From his 
Hymns of my Holy Hours, New York, 1867. Written 1867. 



W 



HY should these eyes be tearful 

For years too swiftly fled ? 
And why these feet be fearful 

The onward path to tread? 
Why should a chill come o'er me 

At thoughts of death as near? 
Or when I see before me 

The silent gates appear? 

Behold my Saviour dying ! 

I hear His parting breath : 
Entombed I see Him lying, 

A captive held of death ; 
Yet peacefully He sleepeth, 

No foe disturbs Him now, 
And love divine still keepeth 

Its impress on His brow. 

But lo I the seal is broken ! 

Rolled back the mighty stone ; 
In vain was set the token 

That friend and foe should own. 
The weeping Mary bending 

Sees not her Saviour there ; 



WHY SHOULD THESE EYES BE TEARFUL? 3OI 

But sons of light attending 
A joyful message bear. 

The Lord is risen : He liveth, 

The First-born from the dead : 
To Him the Father giveth 

To be creation's Head. 
O'er all for ever reigning, 

Of death He holds the keys ; 
And hell — His might constraining — 

Obeys His high decrees. 

Flies now the gloom that shaded 

The vale of death to me ; 
The terrors that invaded 

Are lost, O Christ, in Thee ! 
The grave, no more appalling. 

Invites me to repose ; 
Asleep in Jesus falling, 

To rise as Jesus rose. 

Oh ! when to life awaking. 
The night for ever gone. 
My soul, this dust forsaking, 

Puts incorruption on. 
Lord, in Thy lustre shining, 

In Thine own beauty drest, 
My sun no more declining. 
Thy service be my rest ! 




THE ASCENSION. 



"And when He had spoken these things, while they beheld, He was taken up; 
and a cloud received Him out of their sight." — Acts i. 9. 

" Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth." — Col. iii. 2. 



/^ LORD JESUS, who sittest at the right hand of God the 
Father, as King of saints and eternal High Priest, far above 
all principality and power, and every name that is named : give 
us grace, we beseech Thee, that, being delivered from the curs-e 
and power of sin, we may ever seek the things that are above ; 
and, when Thou who art our life shalt appear, we also may 
appear Avith Thee in glory everlasting, to praise and to enjoy 
Thee, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, one God, world with- 
out end. Amen. 



Qui penetravit inferas 
Domos Redemptor pacifer, 
Se fert in sedes superas 
Mundi supremus arbiter. 

Ab ascendente ducitur 
Regnatura captivitas : 
Palma victis asseritur, 
Mortuis immortalitas. 

Daniel, II. 367. 



THE ASCENSION. 



A HYMN OF GLORY LET US SING. 

{^Hyniiium canamus glories.) 



By Beda Venerabilis, an Anglo-Saxon monk and presbyter at Yarrow, the most 
learned man of his age, d. 735. Daniel, I. p. 206; Schaff (German translation) 
No. 143. Translated by Mrs. Charles {Christian Life iii Song, p. 141). 



\ HYMN of glory let us sing ; 
■^-^ New songs throughout the world shall ring ; 
By a new way none ever trod, 
Christ mounteth to the throne of God. 

The apostles on the mountain stand, — 
The mystic mount, in Holy Land ; 
They, with the Virgin-mother, see 
Jesus ascend in majesty. 

The angels say to the eleven : 
" Why stand ye gazing into heaven ? 
This is the Saviour, — this is He ! 
Jesus hath triumphed gloriously ! " 



a 



306 THE ASCENSION. 

They said the Lord should come again, 
As these beheld Him rising then, 
Calm soaring through the radiant sky, 
Mounting its dazzling summits high. 

May our affections thither tend, 
And thither constantly ascend, 
WLere, seated on the Father's throne. 
Thee reigning in the heavens we own ! 

Be Thou our present joy, O Lord ! 
Who wilt be ever our reward ; 
And, as the countless ages flee. 
May all our glory be in Thee ! 



EXALT, EXALT, THE HEAVENLY. 

('ETTapare TwTiag.) 



From the Greek of St. Joseph of the Studium, 830. This most prolific of 
Greek hymn-writers was a Sicilian by birth ; became a monk at Thessalonica and Con- 
stantinople ; for some years, a slave in Crete ; a friend of Photius, the Patriarch of 
Constantinople, whom he followed into exile. His hymns are tedious, full of verbiage 
and bombast, and unsuited to our taste. But his canon for Ascension is highly praised 
by Dr. J. M. Neale as equal to the hymns of John of Damascus. The following is 
the third ode of this canon, from Neale's Hymns of the Eastern Churchy p. 143. 



"PXALT, exalt, the heavenly gates, 
-'-^ Ye chiefs of mighty name ! 
The Lord and King of all things waits. 
Enrobed in earthly frame : " 



fl 



JESUS, LORD OF LIFE ETERNAL. 307 

So to the higher seats they cry, 
The humbler legions of the sky. 

For Adam, by the serpent's guile. 

Distressed, deceived, o'erthrown. 
Thou left'st Thy native home awhile. 

Thou left'st the Father's throne : 
Now he is decked afresh with grace, 

Thou seek'st once more the heavenly place. 

Glad festal keeps the earth to-day, 

Glad festal heaven is keeping : 
The ascension-pomp, in bright array, 

Goes proudly skyward sweeping ; 
The Lord the mighty deed hath done. 

And joined the severed into one. 



JESUS, LORD OF LIFE ETERNAL. 

('I??ao{)f 6 ZcoodoTT]^.) 



From the Greek of Joseph of the Studium, 830, by Dr. Neale. 



TESUS, Lord of life eternal, 
^ Taking those He loved the best, 
Stood upon the mount of Olives, 

And His Own the last time blest : 
Then, though He had never left it. 
Sought again His Father's breast. 



D 



308 THE ASCENSION. 

Know, O world ! this highest festal : 
Floods and oceans, clap your hands I 

Angels, raise the song of triumph ; 
Make response, ye distant lands ; 

For our flesh is knit to Godhead, 
Knit in everlasting bands. 

Loosing death with all its terrors, 
Thou ascendedst up on high ; 

And to mortals, now Immortal, 
Gavest immortality. 

As Thine own disciples saw Thee 
Mounting Victor to the sky. 



ON EARTH AWHILE, 'MID SUFFERINGS. 

(/« terris adkuc positam.) 



By Peter Abelard (1079-1142), the celebrated schoolman, and unfortunate friend 
of Helolse. Translated by the Rev. Dr. E. A. Washburn, New York, June, 1868. 
Contributed. 



/^N earth awhile, 'mid sufferings tried, 
^^ Still hears the Church, the holy Bride, 
Her Lord from heaven, calling with daily cry, 
Bidding her heart ascend to Him on high. 

"Draw me," she answers, "after Thee ; 
Stretch Thy right hand to succor me : 



TO-DAY ABOVE THE SKY HE SOARED. 3O9 

On winged winds Thou soarest to the skies ; 
Without Thy wings, how can I thither rise?" 

Ask for the pinions of the dove, 

To hasten to that nest of love ; 
Ask thou the eagle's plumes of tireless might, 
That thou may'st climb to the eternal height. 

Both wings and eyes will He bestow. 
That thou the sun's unclouded glow 
With thine undazzled glances may'st behold. 
And drink the blessedness to man untold. 

Only to winged beings given 

Is that fair home of upper heaven ; 
And there the holy soul finds kindred place, 
To whom our God shall grant the wings of grace. 



TO-DAY ABOVE THE SKY HE SOARED. 

(Ccclos asce7idit hodie.^ 



Translated, from the Latin of the 12th century, by Dr. Neale [Mediieval Hymris, 
p. 173). Another translation, by J. W. Hewett, in Shipley's Lyra Messianica, 
p. 419 (" The King of glory, Christ most high. Ascends this day above the sky," &c. ). 



T^O-DAY above the sky He soared : 

^ Hallelujah ! 
The King of glory, Christ the Lord ! 
Hallelujah ! 



U 



3IO THE ASCENSION. 

He sitteth on the Father's hand : 

Hallelujah ! 
And ruleth sky and sea and land : 

Hallelujah ! 

Now all things have their end foretold 

Hallelujah ! 
In holy David's song of old : 

Hallelujah ! 

My Lord is seated with the Lord : 

Hallelujah ! 
Upon the throne of God adored : 

Hallelujah ! 

In this great triumph of our King, 

Hallelujah ! 
To God on high all praise we bring : 

Hallelujah ! 

To Him all thanks and laud give we : 

Hallelujah ! 
The ever-blessed Trinity ! 

Hallelujah ! 



O CHRIST, WHO HAST PREPARED A PLACE I 3II 



O CHRIST, WHO HAST PREPARED. 

{Nobis Olympo redditus.) 



From the Latin, by the Rev. J. Chandler [Hymtis 0/ the Primitive Church, 
pp. 86 and 204). 



f~\ CHRIST, who hast prepared a place 
^^ For us around Thy throne of grace. 
We pray Thee, hft our hearts above. 
And draw them with the cords of love ! 

Source of all good, Thou, gracious Lord, 
Art our exceeding great reward ; 
How transient is our present pain, 
How boundless our eternal gain ! 

With open face and joyful heart. 
We then shall see Thee as Thou art : 
Our love shall never cease to glow, 
Our praise shall never cease to flow. 

Thy never-failing grace to prove, 
A surety of Thine endless love. 
Send down Thy Holy Ghost, to be 
The raiser of our souls to Thee. 



312 THE ASCENSION. 

O future Judge, Eternal Lord, 
Thy name be hallowed and adored ! 
To God the Father, King of heaven, 
And Holy Ghost, like praise be given. 



O JESU, WHO ART GONE BEFORE. 

((9 Ckriste, qui noster poli.^ 



From the Latin, by J. Chandler (1. c. p. 87). 



/^ JESU, who art gone before 
^^ To Thy blest realms of light. 
Oh, thither may our spirits soar. 
And wing their upward flight ! 

Make us to those delights aspire. 
Which spring from love to Thee, 

Which pass the carnal heart's desire. 
Which faith alone can see : 

When to His saints, as their reward, 

Himself Jehovah gives. 
And thus its all-sufficient Lord 

The faithful soul receives. 

To guide us to Thy glories. Lord, 

To lift us to the sky. 
Oh, may Thy Holy Ghost be poured 

Upon us from on high ! 



TO-DAY OUR LORD WENT UP ON HIGH. 313 

Praise to the Father and the Sori) 

Who dwells aloft in heaven : 
And to the Spirit, Three in One, 

Let equal praise be given. 



TO-DAY OUR LORD WENT UP. 

{Auf die sen Tag bedenken ivir.^ 



From the German of Johann Zwick (the editor of the first German Reformed 
Hymn-Book, Zurich, 1540). The best hymn of this author. Translated by Miss C. 
WiNKWORTH (Lyra Gertn., II. 73). The original has six stanzas. 



^ I ^O-DAY our Lord went up on high, 

And so our songs we raise : 
To Him with strong desire we cry 

To keep us in His grace ; 
For we poor sinners here beneath 
Are dwelling still 'mid woe and death. 
All hope in Him we place : 
Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 

Thank God that now the way is made ! 

The cherub-guarded door, 
Through Him on whom our help was laid, 

Stands open evermore ; 
Who knoweth this is glad at heart, 
And swift prepares him to depart 

Where Christ is gone before : 
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! 



314 



THE ASCENSION. 

Our heavenward course begins when we 
Have found our Father, God, 

And join us to His sons, and flee 
The paths that once we trod ; 

For He looks down, and they look up : 

They feel His love, they live in hope, 
Until they meet their Lord : 
Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 

Then all the depths of joy that lie 

In this day we shall know. 
When we are made like Him on high, 

Whom we confess below ; 
When, bathed in life's eternal flood. 
We dwell with Him, the highest Good : 

God grant us this to know ! 
Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 



SINCE CHRIST IS GONE TO HEAVEN. 

{Allein auf Christi Himmelfahrt.^ 



JosuA Wegelin, 1637. Translated from the German, by C. Winkworth {Lyra 
Germ., II. 75). 



OINCE Christ is gone to heaven. His home 
^^ I, too, must one day share ; 



And in this hope I overcome 
All anguish, all despair ; 



LO, GOD TO HEAVEN ASCENDETH ! 315 

For where the Head is, well we know 
The members He hath left below 
In time He gathers there. 

Since Christ hath reached His glorious throne 

And mighty gifts are His, 
My heart can rest in heaven alone ; 

On earth my Lord I miss : 
I long to be with Him on high, 
And heart and thoughts would hourly fly 

Where now my treasure is. 

From Thy ascension let such grace, 

My Lord, be found in me. 
That steadfast faith may guide my ways 

Unfaltering up to Thee, 
And at Thy voice I may depart 
With joy to dwell where Thou, Lord, art; 

Oh, grant this prayer to me ! 



LO, GOD TO HEAVEN ASCENDETH! 

{Goit fahret auf gen Himinel.) 



From the German of Gottfried Wilhelm Sacek (1635-1699). "God is gone 
up with a shout, the Lord with the sound of a trumpet." — Ps. xlvii. 5. Trsl. by Miss 
Frances Elizabeth Cox {Sacred Hymiis froin the German, Lond. 1841, p. 39). 



T O, God to heaven ascendeth ! 

■"^^ Throughout its regions vast, 

With shouts triumphant blendeth 

The trumpet's thrilling blast : 



-D 



3l6 THE ASCENSION. 

Sing praise to Christ the Lord, 
Sing praise with exultation, 
King of each heathen nation ! 

The God of Hosts adored ! 

With joy is heaven resounding, 
Christ's glad return to see ; 

Behold the saints surrounding 
The Lord who set them free : 

Bright myriads thronging come ; 
The cherub band rejoices, 
And loud seraphic voices 

Welcome Messiah home. 

No more the way is hidden. 

Since Christ our Head arose : 
No more to man forbidden 

The road to heaven that goes. 
Our Lord is gone before. 

But here He will not leave us ; 

In heaven He'll soon receive us : 
He opens wide the door. 

Christ is our place preparing. 
To heaven we, too, shall rise. 

And, joys angelic sharing, 
Be where our treasure lies : 

There may each heart be found ! 
Where Jesus Christ has entered, 



HOSANNA TO THE PRINCE OF LIGHT! 3l7 

There let our hopes be centred, 
Our course still heavenward bound ! 

May we, His servants, thither 

In heart and mind ascend ; 
And let us sing together, 

''We seek Thee, Christ our Friend, 
Thee, God's Anointed Son ! 

Our Life, and Way to heaven. 

To whom all power is given, 
Our Joy and Hope and Crown ! " 

When, on our vision dawning, 

Will break the wished-for hour 
Of that all-glorious morning. 

When Christ shall come with power? 
O come, thou welcome Day ! 

When we, our Saviour meeting. 

His second advent greeting, 
Shall hail the heaven-sent ray. 



HOSANNA TO THE PRINCE OF LIGHT! 



Isaac Watts, 1705. 



TTOSANNA to the Prince of light, 
-^ -^ Who clothed Himself in clay ; 
Entered the iron gates of death, 
And tore the bars away. 



3l8 THE ASCENSION. 

Death is no more the king of dread, 

Since our Immanuel rose ; 
He took the tyrant's sting away, 

And conquered all our foes. 

See, how the Conqueror mounts aloft, 

And to His Father flies ! 
With scars of honor in His flesh, 

And triumph in His eyes. 

There our exalted Saviour reigns, 
And scatters blessings down 

From the right hand of Majesty, 
On the celestial throne. 

Raise your devotion, mortal tongues. 

To reach this blest abode ; 
Sweet be the accents of your songs 

To our incarnate God. 

Bright angels, strike your loudest strings. 

Your sweetest voices raise ! 
Let heaven, and all created things, 

Sound our Immanuel's praise ! 



HEAVENWARD DOTH OUR JOURNEY TEND. 319 



HEAVENWARD DOTH OUR JOURNEY. 

(^Himmelan geht unsre Bah7i?) 



Ben'jamin Schmolke, 1731. Translated by Miss C. Winkworth ^Lyra Germ. 
n. 439)- 



TTEAVENWARD doth our journey tend, 
-■■ -^ We are strangers here on earth ; 
Through the wilderness we wend 

Towards the Canaan of our birth. 
Here we roam a pilgrim band, 
Yonder is our native land. 

Heavenward stretch, my soul, thy wings, 
Heavenly nature canst thou claim ; 

There is nought of earthly things 
Worthy to be all thine aim : 

Every soul whom God inspires. 

Back to Him its Source aspires. 

Heavenward ! doth His Spirit cry. 
When I hear Him in His Word, 

Showing thus the rest on high. 
Where I shall be with my Lord : 

When His Word fills all my thought. 

Oft to heaven my soul is caught. 



320 THE ASCENSION. 

Heavenward ever w^ould I haste, 
When Thy Table, Lord, is spread : 

Heavenly strength on earth I taste, 
Feeding on the Living Bread. 

Such is e'en on earth our fare 

Who Thy marriage feast shall share. 

Heavenw^ards ! faith discerns the prize 

That is w^aiting us afar ; 
And my heart would swiftly rise, 

High o'er sun and moon and star. 
To that Light behind the veil 
Where all earthly splendors pale. 

Heavenward, Death shall lead at last. 
To the home where I would be : 

All my sorrows overpast, 

I shall triumph there with Thee, 

Jesus, who hast gone before. 

That we, too, might heavenward soar. 

Heavenwards ! Heavenwards ! only this 
Is my watchword on the earth ; 

For the love of heavenly bliss 
Counting all things little worths 

Heavenward all m}^ being tends. 

Till in heaven my journey ends. 



CONQUERING PRINCE AND LORD OF GLORY. 321 



CONQUERING PRINCE AND LORD OF 
GLORY. 

(^Steg'esfuyst U7id Ehrenkonig.^ 



From the Gennan of Gerhard Tersteegen, a deeply spiritual hjTnnist, 1731 
Translated by Miss C. Winkwokth {Lyra Germ., II. 76; changed, 1862). 



/CONQUERING Prince and Lord of glory, 
^^ Majesty enthroned in light ! 
All the heavens are bowed before Thee, 
Far beyond them spreads Thy might. 
Shall I fall not at Thy feet. 
And my heart with rapture beat, 
Now Thy glory is displayed. 
Thine ere yet the worlds were made ? 

As I watch Thee far ascending 

To the right hand of the throne, 
See the host before Thee bending, 

Praising Thee in sweetest tone. 
Shall I not, too, at Thy feet 
Hear the angels' strain repeat. 
And rejoice that heaven doth sing 
With the triumph of my King? 



322 THE ASCENSION. 

Power and Spirit are overflowing ; 

On me also be they poured : 
Every hinderance overthrowing, 

Make Thy foes Thy footstool, Lord. 
Yea, let earth's remotest end 
To Thy righteous sceptre bend ; 
Make Thy way before Thee plain, 
O'er all hearts and spirits reign. 

Lo, Thy presence now is filling 

All Thy Church in every place ! 
Fill my heart, too : make me willing 

In this season of Thy grace. 
Come, Thou King of glory ! come : 
Deign to make my heart Thy home : 
There abide and rule alone, 
As upon Thy heavenly throne. 

Thou art leaving me, yet bringing 
God and heaven most inly near : 
From this earthly life upspringing. 
As though still I saw Thee here, 
Let my heart, transplanted hence, 
Strange to earth and time and sense. 
Dwell with Thee in heaven e'en now, 
Where our only joy art Thou ! 



HAIL THE DAY THAT SEES HIM RISE ! 323 



HAIL THE DAY THAT SEES HIM RISE! 



Rev. Charles Wesley. From his Hymtis and Sacred Poems, 1739. In Hynzfts 
Ancient and Modern, this hymn is so radically changed as to be hardly recognizable. 



T TAIL the day that sees Him rise, 

Ravished from our wishful eyes ! 
Christ, awhile to mortals given, ^ 
Re-ascends His native heaven. 

There the pompous triumph waits : 
"Lift your heads, eternal gates. 
Wide unfold the radiant scene ; 
Take the King of glory in ! " 

Circled round with angel powers, 
Their triumphant Lord and ours. 
Conqueror over death and sin ; 
Take the King of glory in ! 

Him though highest heaven receives, 
Still He loves the earth He leaves ; 
Though returning to His throne. 
Still He calls mankind His own. 



Or:- 

Christ, the Lamb for sinners given. 



ft 



v\ 



324 THE ASCENSION. 

See, He lifts His hands above ! 
See, He shows the prints of love ! 
Hark ! His gracious lips bestow 
Blessings on His Church below ! 

Still for us His death He pleads ; 
Prevalent He intercedes ; 
Near Himself prepares our place, 
Harbinger of human race. 

Master (will we ever say), 
Taken from our head to-day. 
See Thy faithful servants, see, 
Ever gazing up to Thee. 

Grant, though parted from our sight, 
High above yon azure height, 
Grant our hearts may thither rise, 
Following Thee beyond the skies. 

Ever upward let us move. 
Wafted on the wings of love ; 
Looking when our Lord shall come. 
Longing, gasping after home. 

There we shall with Thee remain, 
Partners of Thy endless reign ; 
There Thy face unclouded see. 
Find our heaven of heavens in Thee. 



OUR LORD IS RISEN FROM THE DEAD, 325 



OUR LORD IS RISEN FROM THE DEAD. 



Rev. Charles Wesley, 1739. 



/^UR Lord is risen from the dead : 
^^ Our Jesus is gone up on high ; 
The powers of hell are captive led, 

Dragged to the portals of the sky. 
There His triumphant chariot waits, 

And angels chant the solemn lay : 
Lift up your heads, ye heavenly gates ; 

Ye everlasting doors, give way ! 

Loose all your bars of massy light. 

And wide unfold the ethereal scene : 
He claims these mansions as His right ; 

Receive the King of glory in ! 
Who is the King of glory? who? . 

The Lord who all our foes o'ercame ; 
The world, sin, death, and hell o'erthrew ; 

And Jesus is the Conqueror's name. 

Lo ! His triumphant chariot waits. 
And angels chant the solemn lay : 

Lift up your heads, ye heavenly gates ; 
Ye everlasting doors, give way ! 



326 THE ASCENSION. 

Who is the King of glory? who? 

The Lord, of glorious power possessed ; 
The king of saints and angels too ; 

God over all, for ever blest ! 



ALL HAIL THE POWER OF JESUS' NAME ! 



The Coronation. By the Rev. Edward Perronet, for some time an associate 
of the Wesleys : afterwards employed by Lady Huntingdon ; then pastor of a dissent- 
ing congregation; d. at Canterbury, in 1792. He published, in 1785, a rare small 
volume of Occasiotial Verses, Moral and Social, a copy of which is preserved in the 
library of the British Museum. This hymn is full of joyous inspiration, and is very 
popular in America. It is often erroneously ascribed to Duncan and others, and arbi- 
trarily changed. 



A LL hail the power of Jesus' name ! 
^ -^ Let angels prostrate fall ; 
Bring forth the royal diadem, 
And crown Him Lord of all ! 

Let high-born seraphs tune the lyre, 

And, as they tune it, fall 
Before His face, who tunes their choir, 

And crown Him Lord of all ! 

Crown Him, ye morning stars of light, 
Who fixed this floating ball ; 

Now hail the strength of Israel's might, 
And crown Him Lord of all ! 



fl 



ALL HAIL THE POWER OF JESUS' NAME ! 327 

Crown Him, ye morning stars of light! 

He fixed this floating ball ; 
Now hail the strength of Israel's might, 

And crown Him Lord of all ! 

Crown Him, ye martyrs of our God, 

Who from His altar call ; 
Extol the Stem of Jesse's rod, 

And crown Him Lord of all ! 

Ye seed of Israel's chosen race. 

Ye ransomed of the fall. 
Hail Him who saves you by His grace, 

i\nd crown Him Lord of all ! 

Hail Him, ye heirs of David's line, 

Whom David Lord did call ; 
The God incarnate, Man Divine, 

And crown Him Lord of all ! 

Sinners, whose love can ne'er forget 

The wormwood and the gall, 
Go spread your trophies at His feet. 

And crown Him Lord of all ! 

Let every tribe and every tongue 

That hear the Saviour's call. 
Now shout in universal song. 

And crown Him Lord of all ! 



B 



328 THE ASCENSION. 



SOFT CLOUD, THAT, WHILE THE 
BREEZE OF MAY. 



By the Rev. John Keble, D.D. (d. 1866). From his Christian Year (31st ed., 
1857). " Why stand ye gazing up into heaven ? This same Jesus, which is taken up 
from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen Him go into 
heaven." — Acts'\. 11. 



OOFT cloud, that, while the breeze of May 
^^ Chants her glad matins in the leafy arch, 
Draw'st thy bright veil across the heavenly way, 
Meet pavement for an angel's glorious march : 

My soul is envious of mine eye. 
That it should soar and glide with thee so fast, 
The while my grovelling thoughts half-buried lie. 
Or lawless roam around this earthly waste. 

Chains of my heart, avaunt, I say : 
I will arise, and in the strength of love 
Pursue the bright track ere it fade away, 
My Saviour's pathway to His home above. 

Sure, when 1 reach the point where earth 
Melts into nothing from th' uncumbered sight. 
Heaven will o'ercome th' attraction of my birth, 
And I shall sink in yonder sea of light : 



5 



SOFT CLOUD, THAT, WHILE THE BREEZE. 329 

Till resting by th' incarnate Lord, 
Once bleeding, now triumphant for my sake, 
I mark Him, — how, by seraph hosts adored. 
He to earth's lowest cares is still awake. 

The sun and every vassal star, 
All space, beyond the soar of angel wings. 
Wait on His word ; and }■ et He stays His car 
For every sigh a contrite suppliant brings. 

He listens to the silent tear. 
For all the anthems of the boundless sky ; 
And shall our dreams of music bar our ear 
To His soul-piercing voice for ever nigh? 

Nay, gracious Saviour ; but as now 
Our thoughts have traced Thee to Thy glory throne, 
So help us ever more with Thee to bow 
Where human sorrow breathes her lowly moan. 

We must not stand to gaze too long, 
Though on unfolding Heaven our gaze we bend. 
Where, lost behind the bright angelic throng. 
We see Christ's entering triumph slow ascend. 

No fear but we sliall soon behold. 
Faster than now it fades, that gleam revive, 
When, issuing from His cloud of fiery gold. 
Our wasted frames feel the true Sun, and live. 



330 



THE ASCENSION. 



Then shall we see Thee as Thou art, 
For ever fixed in no unfruitful gaze, 
But such as lifts the new-created heart. 
Age after age, in worthier love and praise. 



LAMB, THE ONCE CRUCIFIED! 

{Lamm, das gelitten, und Lowe, der siegreich gernngeu?) 



From the German of Mrs. Dr. Meta Heusser-Schweizer, the most gifted and 
sweetest of female poets in the German tongue; born, 1797, at Hirzel, near Zdnch, 
Switzerland, where she resides, in modest retirement, to this day. This truly sublime 
hymn is the second part of a larger hymn composed in spring, 183 1, and has passed 
into several German hymn-books (Schaff, Nos. 149 and 388). Translated, April, 
1868, at the request of the editor, by the Rev. Professor Thomas C. Porter, of 
Lafayette College, Easton, Pa., who has successfully overcome the unusual difficulties 
of the German dactylic metre {adapted to the favorite choral, " Lobe den Herren, 
den machtigen Konig der Ehren"). Albert Knapp has edited a collection of poems 
of Mrs. H., under the title, Lieder einer Verhorge7ien, Leipz. 1858; a second collec- 
tion, under her proper name, appeared 1867. They are apples of gold in baskets of 
silver, and exhibit a rare union of lofty genius and humble piety. 



T AMB, the once crucified ! Lion, by triumph 
■^^ surrounded ! 

Victim all bloody, and Hero, who hell hast con- 
founded ! 

Pain-riven Heart, 
That from earth's deadliest smart 
O'er all the heavens hast bounded ! ^ 



1 The first stanza is truly classical in thought and expression, 
but almost untranslatable : — 



LAMB, THE ONCE CRUCIFIED ! 33 1 

Thou in the depths wert to mortals the highest 

reveahng, 
God in humanity veiled, Thy full glory concealing I 
"Worthy art Thou!" 
Shouteth eternity now, 
Praise to Thee endlessly pealing. 

Heavenly Love, in the language of earth past 

expression I 
Lord of all worlds, unto whom every tongue owes 
confession I 

Didst Thou not go, 
And, under sentence of woe, 
Rescue the doomed by transgression? 

O'er the abyss of the grave, and its horrors 

infernal. 
Victory's palm Thou art waving in triumph super- 
nal : 

Who to Thee cling. 
Circled by hope, shall now bring 
Out of its gulf life eternal. 



" Lamm, das gelitten, und L"-:we, der siegreich gerungen ! 
Blutendes Opfer, und Held, der die Hdlle bezwungen ! 
Brechendes Herz, 
Das sich aus irdischem Schmerz 
Ueber die Himmel geschwungen ! " 

The whole range of German poetry furnishes no finer speci- 
men of dactylic versification. What sublime contrasts, and what 





r^ 


^ 




-. .. ..0 c„ 




r 




^ 


t 


332 THE ASCENSION. 

Son of Man, Saviour, in whom, with deep tender- 
ness blending, 
Infinite Pity to wretches her balm is extending, 
On Thy dear breast, 
Weary and numb, they may rest. 
Quickened to joy never ending. 

Strange condescension ! immaculate Purity, deign- 
ing 
Union with souls w^here the vilest pollution is reign- 
ing, 

Beareth their sin, 
Seeketh the fallen to win. 
Even the lowest regaining. 

Sweetly persuasive, to me, too, Thy call has re- 
sounded ; 
Melting my heart so obdurate, Thy love has 
abounded ; 

Back to the fold, 
Led by Thy hand, I behold 
Grace all my path has surrounded. 

Bless thou the Lord, O my soul ! who, thy pardon 

assuring. 
Heals thy diseases, and grants thee new life ever 
during, 

Joy amid woe. 
Peace amid strife here below, 


b 


< 


Unto thee ever securing. 


> 




^ J c— 


"^ 










U 


>■< 



LAMB, THE ONCE CRUCIFIED ! 333 

Upward, on pinions celestial, to regions of pleasure, 
Into the land whose bright glories no mortal can 
measure, 

Strong hope and love 
Bear Thee, the fulness to prove 
Of Thy salvation's rich treasure. 

There, as He is, we shall view Him, with rapture 

abiding. 
Cheered even here by His glance, when the dark- 
ness dividing 

Lets down a ray. 
Over the perilous way 
Thousands of wanderers guiding. 

Join, O my voice ! the vast chorus, with trembling 

emotion : 
Chorus of saints, who, though sundered by land 
and by ocean, 

With sweet accord 
Praise the same glorious Lord, 
One in their ceaseless devotion. ' 

Break forth, O nature ! in song, when the spring- 
tide is nighest ; 
World that hast seen His salvation, no longer thou 
sighest ! 

Shout, starry train. 
From your empyreal plain, 
" Glory to God in the highest ! " 



U 



334 THE ASCENSION. 



SEE, THE CONQUEROR. 



By Chr. Wordsworth, D.D., Archdeacon of Westminster. From his Hymns 
for the Holy Year, Lond. 1863, p. 129. Verses 6, 7, and 10 (a doxology) are omitted. 



OEE, the Conqueror mounts in triumph, 
*^ See the King in royal state, 
Riding on the clouds His chariot, 

To His heavenly palace-gate ; 
Hark, the choirs of angel-voices 

Joyful Hallelujahs sing ! 
And the portals high are lifted, 

To receive their heavenly King. 

Who is this that comes in glory, 

With the trump of Jubilee ? 
Lord of battles, God of armies. 

He has gained the victory ; 
He v^ho on the cross did suffer. 

He who from the grave arose. 
He has vanquished sin and Satan, 

He by death has spoiled His foes. 

Now^ our heavenly Aaron enters. 
With His blood within the veil ; 

Joshua now is come to Canaan, 
And the kings before Him quail ; 

Now He plants the tribes of Israel 
In their promised resting-place ; 



nj 



s 



SEE, THE CONQUEROR. 335 

Now our great Elijah offers 
Double portion of His grace. 

Thou hast raised our human nature 

On the clouds to God's right hand ; 
There we sit in heavenly places, 

There wdth Thee in glory stand ; 
Jesus reigns, adored by angels; 

Man with God is on the throne : 
Mighty Lord, in Thine Ascension 

We by fciith behold our own. 

Lift us up from earth to heaven. 

Give us wings of faith and love, 
Gales of holy aspirations 

Wafting us to realms above ; 
That, with hearts and minds uplifted. 

We with Christ our Lord may dwell. 
Where He sits enthroned in glory 

In the heavenly citadel. 

So at last, when He appeareth, 

We from out our graves may spring. 
With our youth renewed like eagles'. 

Flocking round our heavenly King, 
Caught up on the clouds of heaven, 

And may meet Him in the air, 
Rise to realms w^here He is reigning, 

And may reign for ever there. 



336 THE ASCENSION, 



HE IS GONE; BEYOND THE SKIES. 



A. P. Stanley, D.D., Dean of Westminster. 



T TE is gone ; beyond the skies, 

-*- ^ A cloud receives Him from our eyes, 

Gone be^^ond the highest height 

Of mortal gaze or angel's flight ; 

Through the veils of time and space, 

Passed into the holiest place ; 

All the toil, the sorrow done, 

All the battle fought and won. 

He is gone ; and we return. 
And our hearts within us burn ; 
Olivet no more shall greet, 
With welcome shout, His coming feet ; 
Never shall we thank Him more 
On Gennesareth's glistening shore ; 
Never in that look or voice 
Shall Zion's walls again rejoice. 

He is gone ; and we remain 
In this world of sin and pain, 
In the void which He has left ; 
On this earth, of Him bereft. 
We have still His work to do. 
We can still His path pursue ; 
Seek Him both in friend or foe. 
In ourselves His image show. 



SING, O HEAVENS ! O EARTH, REJOICE I 337 

He is gone ; but we once more 
Shall behold Him as before. 
In the heaven of heavens the same 
As on earth He went and came ; 
In the many mansions there, 
Peace for us He will prepare : 
In that world, unseen, unknown, 
He and we may yet be one. 

He is gone, but not in vain ; 
Wait until He comes again ; 
He is risen. He is not here ; 
Far above this earthly sphere. 
Evermore in heart and mind. 
There our peace in Him we find ; 
To our own Eternal Friend 
Thitherward let us ascend. 



SING, O HEAVENS ! O EARTH, REJOICE 



By John S. B. MonselLj LL.D. From his Hy7nns of Love and Praise^ 1863. 



OING, O Heavens ! O Earth, rejoice ! 
^^ Angel harp and human voice. 
Round Him, as He rises, raise 
Your ascending Saviour's praise : 
Hallelujah ! 



338 THE ASCENSION. 

Bruised is the serpent's head, 
Hell is vanquished, Death is dead ; 
And to Christ, gone up on high, 
Captive is captivity : 
Hallelujah ! 

All His work and warfare done. 
He into His heaven is gone. 
And, beside His Father's throne. 
Now is pleading for His own : 
Hallelujah ! 

Asking gifts for sinful men. 
That He may come down again. 
And, the fallen. to restore. 
In them dwell for evermore : 
Hallelujah ! 

Sing, O Heavens ! O Earth, rejoice ! 
Angel harp and human voice. 
Round Him, in His glory, raise 
Your ascended Saviour's praise : 
Hallelujah ! 



CHRIST IN GLORY. 

HIS INTERCESSION AND REIGN. 



"And LGod] hath put all things under His feet, and gave Him to be the head over 
all things to the church, which is His body, the fulness of Him that filleth all in all." 

EpH. i. 22, 23. 

"Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died; yea, rather, that is risen 
again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us." — 
Rom. viii. 34. 

"We have such an High Priest, who is set on the right hand of the throne of the 
Majesty in the heavens." — Heb. viii. 1. 

'T^HOU art the King of glory, O Christ! 

-^ Thou art the everlasting Son of the Father. 
When Thou tookest upon Thee to deliver man, 
Thou didst not abhor the Virgin's womb. 
When Thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death, 
Thou didst open the kingdom of heaven to all believers. 
Thou sittest at the right hand of God, 
In the glorv of the Father. 

We believe that Thou shalt come to be our Judge. 
We therefore prav Thee, help Thj servants, 
Whom Thou hast redeemed with Thj precious blood. 
Make them to be numbered with Thj saints. 
In glory everlasting. Amen. 

Fro7n the Te Deum. 



'I 



Q 



+ 



CHRIST IN GLORY. 



HIS INTERCESSION AND REIGN. 



CHRIST, THOU THE CHAMPION. 

{Ckriste, Dti Beistand Deiner Kreuzgememe.) 



From the German of Matthaeus Apelles von Lowenstern, a statesman, 
b. 1594, d. 1648. Author of thirty hymns. This hymn was written, 1644, during the 
Thirty Years' War. " Be of good cheer : I have overcome the world." — jfohn xvi. 33. 
Translated by C. Winkworth [Lyra Germ., I. 105). It was a favorite hymn of 
Niebuhr and Bunsen. 



/^HRIST, Thou the champion of the band who 
^^ own 

Thy cross, oh, make Thy succor quickly known ! 
The schemes of those who long our blood have 
sought 

Bring Thou to nought. 

Do Thou Thyself for us Thy children fight, 
Withstand the devil, quell his rage and might, 
Whate'er assails Thy members left below. 
Do Thou o'erthrow. 



342 



CHRIST IN GLORY. 



And give us peace : peace in the church and school, 
Peace to the powers who o'er our country rule, 
Peace to the conscience, peace within the heart. 
Do Thou impart. 

So shall Thy goodness here be still adored. 
Thou guardian of Thy little flock, dear Lord ; 
And heaven and earth through all eternity 
Shall worship Thee. 



MY JESUS, IF THE SERAPHIM. 

{Mein J-esii, dent die Sera^pkinen.) 



The eternal Priesthood of Christ. By Wolfgang Christoph Dessler, 1692 
(ScHAFF, No. 150). Translated by C. Winkworth, under the title, "The Throne 
of Grace" {Lyra Germ., II. 78). 



IV /TY Jesus, if the seraphim, 

'^■*- The burning host that near Thee stand, 
Before Thy Majesty are dim. 

And veil their face at Thy command ; 
How shall these mortal eyes of mine. 

Now dark with evil's hateful night, 

Endure to gaze upon the light 
That aye surrounds that throne of Thine ? 

Yet grant the eye of faith, O Lord ! 

To pierce within the Holy Place ; 
For I am saved and Thou adored, 

If I am quickened by Thy grace. 



MY JESUS, IF THE SERAPHIM. 343 

Behold, O King I before Thy throne 
My soul in lowl}^ love doth bend, 
O show Thyself her gracious Friend I 

And say, "I choose thee for Mine own." 

Have mercy. Lord of Love ! for long 

My spirit for Thy mercy sighs : 
My inmost soul hath found a tongue, 

" Be merciful, O God ! " she cries : 
I know Thou wdlt not bid me go. 

Thou canst not be ungracious, Lord, 

To one for whom Thy blood was poured. 
Whose guilt was cancelled by Thy woe. 

Here in Thy gracious hands I fall. 
To Thee I cling with faith's embrace : 

O righteous Sovereign, hear my call ! . 
And turn, O turn, to me in grace ! 

For through Thy sorrows I am just. 
And guilt no more in me is found : 
Thus reconciled, my soul is bound 

To Thee in endless love and trust. 

And let Thy wisdom be my guide, 
Nor take Thy light from me away ; 

Thy grace be ever at my side. 

That from the path I may not stray 

That Thou dost love, but evermore 
In steadfast faith m}^ course fulfil, 
And keep Thy word, and do Thy will, 

Thy love within. Thy heaven before ! 



344 CHRIST IN GLORY. 

Reach down, and arm me with Thy hand, 
And strengthen me with inner might. 

That I, through faith, may strive and stand. 
Though craft and force against me fight : 

So shall the kingdom of Thy love 

Be through me and within me spread, 
That honors Thee, our glorious Head, 

And crowneth us in realms above. 

Yes, yes, to Thee my soul would cleave : 

O choose it, Saviour, for Thy throne ! 
Couldst Thou in love to me once leave 

The glory that was all Thine own? 
So honor Thou my life and heart 

That Thou mayst find a heaven in me ; 

And, when this house decayed shall be, 
Then grant the heaven where now Thou art. 

To Thee I rise in faith on high : 

Oh, bend Thou down in love to me ! 
Let nothing rob me of this joy. 

That all my soul is filled with Thee : 
As long as I have life and breath, 

Thee will I honor, fear, and love ; 

And when this heart hath ceased to move, 
Yet Love shall live and conquer death. 



JESUS SHALL REIGN. 345 



JESUS SHALL REIGN. 



Isaac Watts, D.D., 1719. Ps. Ixxii. 



TESUS shall reign where'er the sun 
^ Does his successive journeys run ; 
His kingdom stretch from shore to shore. 
Till moons shall wax and wane no more. 

Behold the islands with their kings, 
And Europe her best tribute brings ; 
From north to south the princes meet 
To pay their homage at His feet. 

There Persia, glorious to behold. 
There India shines in eastern gold : 
And barb'rous nations, at His word, 
Submit and bow, and own their Lord. 

For Him shall endless prayer be made, 
And praises throng to crown His head : 
His name, like sweet perfume, shall rise 
With every morning sacrifice. 

People and realms. of every tongue 
Dwell on His love with sweetest song ; 
And infant voices shall proclaim 
Their early blessings on His name. 



34^ CHRIST IN GLORY. 

Blessings abound where'er He reigns ; 
The prisoner leaps to lose his chains ; 
The wear}^ find eternal rest, 
And all the sons of want are blest. 

Where He displays His healing power, 
Death and the curse are known no more ; 
In Him the tribes of Adam boast 
More blessinofs than their father lost. 

Let every creature rise, and bring 
Peculiar honors to our King ; 
Angels descend with songs again, 
And earth repeat the long Amen ! 



BEHOLD THE GLORIES OF THE LAMB! 



Isaac Watts, D.D., 1674-1748. "A new song to the Lamb that was slain." — 
Rev. V. 6, 8-12. 



"DEHOLD the glories of the Lamb 
-^ Amidst His Father's throne ! 
Prepare new honors for His name. 
And songs before unknown. 



Let elders worship at His feet, 
The Church adore around. 

With vials full of odors sweet, 
And harps of sweeter sound. 



BEHOLD THE GLORIES OF THE LAMB ! 347 

Those are the prayers of the saints, 

And these the hymns they raise ; 
Jesus is kind to our complaints, 

He loves to hear our praise. 

Eternal Father, who shall look 

Into Thy secret will ? 
Who but the Son should take that book, 

And open every seal? 

He shall fulfil Thy great decrees : 

The Son deserves it well ; 
Lo, in His hand the sov'reign keys 

Of heaven and death and hell I 

Now to the Lamb, that once was slain. 

Be endless blessings paid ; 
Salvation, glory, joy, remain 

For ever on Thy head. 

Thou hast redeemed our souls with blood, 

Hast set the prisoners free. 
Hast made us kings and priests to God, 

And we shall reign with Thee. 

The worlds of nature and of grace 

Are put beneath Thy power ; 
Then shorten these delaying days, 

And bring the promised hour. 



cJ 

348 CHRIST IN GLORY. 



REJOICE! THE LORD IS KING. 



Rev. Charles Wesley, 1745. 



"D EJOICE ! the Lord is King : 
■*-^ Your Lord and King adore ; 
Mortals, give thanks and sing, 
And triumph evermore : 

Lift up your heart, Hft up your voice ; 

Rejoice, again I say, rejoice. 

Jesus the Saviour reigns. 

The God of truth and love ; 
When He had purged our stains, 
He took His seat above : 
Lift up your heart, lift up your voice ; 
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice. 

His kingdom cannot fail ; 

He rules o'er earth and heaven ; 
The keys of death and hell 
Are to our Jesus given : 
Lift up your heart, lift up your voice ; 
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice. 



NOW LET OUR CHEERFUL EYES SURVEY. 349 

He sits at God's right hand, 

Till all His foes submit, 
And bow to His command. 
And fall beneath His feet : 
Lift up your heart, lift up voir voice ; 
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice. 

He all His foes shall quell. 

Shall all our sins destro}^ 
And every bosom swell 
With pure seraphic joy : 
Lift up your heart, lift up your voice ; 
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice. 

Rejoice in glorious hope ; 

Jesus the Judge shall come, 
And take His servants up 
To their eternal home : 
We soon shall hear the archangel's voice ; 
The trump of God shall sound, Rejoice I 



NOW LET OUR CHEERFUL EYES SURVEY. 



Philip Doddridge, D.D. ; bora in London. 1702 ; died at Lisbon, 



I^TOW let our cheerful eyes survev 
^ Our great High Priest above, 

And celebrate His constant care. 
His sympathy and love. 




350 CHRIST IN GLORY. 

Though raised to a superior throne. 
Where angels bow around, 

And high o'er all the heavenly host, 
With matchless honor crowned, — 

The names of all His saints He bears, 
Deep graven on His heart ; 

Nor shall the meanest Christian say, 
That he hath lost his part. 

Those characters shall fair abide 

Our everlasting trust, 
When gems and monuments and crowns 

Are mouldered down to dust. 

So, gracious Saviour, on my breast 
May Thy dear name be worn, 

A sacred ornament and guard. 
To endless ages borne. 



WHERE HIGH THE HEAVENLY TEMPLE. 



Michael Bruce, 1746-1767. 



TT 7HERE high the heavenly temple stands, 
^ ^ The house of God not made with hands, 
A great High Priest our nature wears, 
The Patron of mankind appears. 



WHERE HIGH THE HEAVENLY TEMPLE STANDS. 35 1 

He who for men in mercy stood, 
And poured on earth His precious blood, 
Pursues in heaven His plan of grace. 
The Guardian God of human race. 

Though now ascended up on high, 
He bends on earth a brother's eye ; 
Partaker of the human name, 
He knows the frailty of our frame. 

Our Fellow-sufFerer yet retains 
A fellow-feeling of our pains ; 
And still remembers in the skies 
His tears and agonies and cries. 

In every pang that rends the heart, 
The Man of sorrows had a part ; 
He sympathizes with our grief. 
And to the sufferer sends relief. 



With boldness, therefore, at the throne 
Let us make all our sorrows known ; 
And ask the aids of heavenly power 
To help us in the evil hour. 



c_a 



352 CHRIST IN GLORY, 



HE WHO ON EARTH AS MAN WAS 
KNOWN. 



John Newton, 1779. From the Ohiey Hym^is, No. 59. On Isa. xxxii. 2. 



T TE who on earth as man was known, 
-^ -*- And bore our sins and pains, 
Now, seated on th' eternal throne. 
The God of glory reigns. 

His hands the wheels of nature guide 

With an unerring skill ; 
And countless worlds, extended wide. 

Obey His sovereign will. 

While harps unnumbered sound His praise 

In yonder world above. 
His saints on earth admire His ways, 

And glory in His love. 

His righteousness, to faith revealed, 
Wrought out for guilty worms. 

Affords a hiding-place and shield 
From enemies and storms. 



THE HEAD THAT ONCE WAS CROWNED. 353 

This land, through which His pilgrims go, 

Is desolate and dry ; 
But streams of grace from Him o'erfiow, 

Their thirst to satisfy. 

When troubles, like a burning sun, 

Beat heavy on their head, 
To this Almighty Rock they run, 

And find a pleasing shade. 

How glorious He ! how happy they 

In such a glorious Friend ! 
Whose love secures them all the way, 

And crowns them at the end. 



THE HEAD THAT ONCE WAS CROWNED. 



Rev. Thomas Kelly, 1769-1855. 



^ I ^HE Head that once was crowned with thorns 

-*- Is crowned with glory now ; 
A royal diadem adorns 
The mighty Victor's brow. 

The highest place that heaven affords 

Is His, is His by right, — 
"The King of kings, and Lord of lords," 

And heaven's eternal Light ! 
23 



354 CHRIST IN GLORY. 

The joy of all who dwell above, 

The joy of all below, 
To whom He manifests His love. 

And grants His name to know. 

To them, the cross, with all its shame. 
With all its grace, is given ; 

Their name an everlasting name. 
Their joy the joy of heaven. 

They suffer with their Lord below. 
They reign with Him above ; 

Their profit and their joy to know 
The mystery of His love. 

The cross He bore is life and health. 
Though shame and death to Him ; 

His people's hope. His people's health. 
Their everlasting theme. 



THE ATONING WORK IS DONE. 



Rev. Thomas Kelly; died, at Dublin, 1855. 

^ I ^HE atoning work is done, 

-^ The Victim's blood is shed ; 
And Jesus now is gone 

His people's cause to plead ; 



THE ATONING WORK IS DONE. 355 

He stands in heaven their great High Priest, 
And bears their names upon His breast. 

He sprinkles with His blood 

The mercy-seat above ; 
For justice hath withstood 
The purposes of love ; 
But justice now objects no more, 
And mercy yields her boundless store. 

No temple made with hands 

His place of service is ; 
In heaven itself He stands. 
An heavenly priesthood His ; 
In Him the shadows of the law 
Are all fulfilled, and now withdraw. 

And though awhile He be 

Hid from the eyes of men, 
His people look to see 

Their great High Priest again ; 
In brightest glory He will come, 
And take His waiting people home. 



356 CHRIST IN GLORY. 



HOSANNA ! RAISE THE PEALING HYMN. 



Anonymous [1842]. From R. Palmer's Book of Praise, No. LXXIX. 



T T OS ANNA ! raise the pealing hymn 
-^ -^ To David's Son and Lord ; 
With Cherubim and Seraphim 
Exalt the Incarnate Word. 

Hosanna ! Lord, our feeble tongue 

No lofty strains can raise ; 
But Thou wilt not despise the young, 

Who meekly chant Thy praise. 

Hosanna ! Sovereign, Prophet, Priest, 
How vast Thy gifts, how free ! 

Thy Blood, our life ; Thy Word, our feast ; 
Thy Name, our only plea. 

Hosanna ! Master, lo, we bring 

Our offerings to Thy throne ; 
Not gold, nor myrrh, nor mortal thing. 

But hearts to be Thine own. 

Hosanna ! once Thy gracious ear 

Approved a lisping throng ; 
Be gracious still, and deign to hear 

Our poor but grateful song. 



» 



SEE, THE RANSOMED MILLIONS STAND ! 357 

O Saviour I if, redeemed by Thee, 

Thy temple we behold, 
Hos annas through eternity 

We'll sing to harps of gold. 



SEE, THE RANSOMED MILLIONS STAND ! 



JosiAH CoxDER, a publisher and editor ; b. in London, 1789; d. 185 



OEE, the ransomed millions stand, 
^^ Palms of conquest in their hand ! 
This before the throne their strain : 
" Hell is vanquished : death is slain ; 
Blessing, honor, glory, might, 
Are the Conqueror's native right ; 
Thrones and powers before Him fall ; 
Lamb of God, and Lord of all ! " 



Hasten, Lord ! the promised hour ; 
Come in glory and in power ; 
Still Thy foes are unsubdued ; 
Nature sighs to be renewed : 
Time has nearly reached its sum, 
All things with Thy Bride say, Come ; 
Jesus whom all worlds adore. 
Come and reign for evermore ! 



358 CHRIST IN GLORY. 

JESUS IS GOD! THE SOLID EARTH. 



"Jesus is God." By Frederick William Faber, D.D. Born 1815 ; graduated 
in Oxford, 1836; rector of Elton in Northamptonshire; entered the Roman-Catholic 
Church, 1S45 ; priest of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri. One of the most fervent devo- 
tional writers of the Roman-Catholic Church. Two (polemical) stanzas are omitted. 



TESUS is God ! the solid earth, 
^ The ocean broad and bright. 
The countless stars, like golden dust, 
That strew the skies at night, 

The wheeling storm, the dreadful fire. 
The pleasant, wholesome air, 

The summer's sun, the winter's frost, 
His own creations were. 

Jesus is God ! the glorious bands 

Of golden angels sing 
Songs of adoring praise to Him, 

Their Maker and their King. 

He was true God in Bethlehem's crib ; 

On Calvary's cross, true God : 
He who in heaven eternal reigned. 

In time, on earth abode. 

Jesus is God I there never was 

A time when He was not ; 
Boundless, eternal, merciful. 

The Word the Sire begot. 



JESUS IS GOD ! THE SOLID EARTH. 359 



Backward our thoughts through ages stretch, 

Onward through endless bhss ; 
For there are two eternities, 

And both aHke are His ! 

Jesus is God ! let sorrow come, 

And pain and ever}^ ill ; 
All are worth while, for all are means 

His glory to fulfil ; 

Worth while a thousand years of life 

To speak one little word. 
If by our Credo we might own 

The Godhead of our Lord. 

Jesus is God ! oh, could I now 

But compass land and sea, 
To teach and tell this single truth, 

How happy should I be ! 

Oh, had I but an angel's voice 

I would proclaim so loud, — 
Jesus, the good, the beautiful, 

Is everlasting God ! 

Jesus is God ! if on the earth 

This blessed faith decays. 
More tender must our love become, 

More plentiful our praise. 



360 CHRIST IN GLORY. 

We are not angels, but we may 
Down in earth's corners kneel, 

And multiply sweet acts of love. 
And murmur what we feel. 



KING OF KINGS, AND WILT THOU DEIGN? 



W. A. Muhlenberg, D.D., author of " I would not live alway." 1859. 



T^ING of kings, and wilt Thou deign 
O'er this wayward heart to reign ? 
Henceforth take it for Thy throne,^ 
Rule here, Lord, and rule alone. 

Then, like heaven's angelic bands. 
Waiting for Thine high commands, 
All my powers shall wait on Thee, 
Captive, yet divinely free. 

At Thy Word my will shall bow. 
Judgment, reason, bending low ; 
Hope, desire, and every thought, 
Into glad obedience brought. 

1 So reads the written copy, kindly furnished me by the 
author. In the printed volume of his poems, this line is changed 
thus : — 

" Other Sovereign, none I'll own." 



O CHRIST, THE LORD OF HEAVEN I 361 

Zeal shall haste on eager wing, 
Hourly some new gift to bring ; 
Wisdom, humbly casting down 
At Thy feet her golden crown. 

Tuned by Thee in sweet accord, 
All shall sing their gracious Lord ; 
Love, the leader of the choir, 
Breathing round her seraph fire. 

Be it so : my heart's Thy throne. 
All my powers Thy sceptre own, 
And, with them on Thine own hill, 
Live rejoicing in Thy will. 



O CHRIST, THE LORD OF HEAVEN! 



Ray Palmer, D.D., May 9, 1867. Praise to Christ. Rev. xix. 16. 



r^ CHRIST, the Lord of heaven, to Thee, 
^^ Clothed with all majesty divine. 
Eternal power and glory be. 

Eternal praise of right is Thine ! 

Reign, Prince of Life ! that once Thy brow 
Didst 3deld to wear the wounding thorn ; 

Reign throned beside the Father now. 
Adored the Son of God first-born I 



fl 



362 CHRIST IN GLORY. 

From angel hosts that round Thee stand, 
With forms more pm^e than spotless snow, 

From the bright, burning seraph band. 
Let praise in loftiest numbers flow ! 

To Thee, the Lamb, our mortal songs. 
Born of deep, fervent love shall rise ; 

All honor to Thy name belongs, 
Our lips would sound it to the skies. 

Jesus ! all earth shall speak the word ; 

Jesus ! all heaven resound it still ; 
Immanuel, Saviour, Conqueror, Lord, 

Thy praise the universe shall fill ! 



CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 



"When the Son of Man shall come in His glory, and all the holy angels with 
Him, then shall He sit upon the throne of His glory. And before Him shall be 
gathered all nations: and He shall separate them one fi-ora another, as a shepherd 
divide th his sheep from the goats." — Matt. xxv. 31, 32. 

" We must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ ; that every one may 
receive the things done in his body." — 2 Cor. v. 10. 



JUDEX mundi quum sedebit, 
Quidquid latet apparebit, 
Nil inultum remanebit. 



Quid Slim, miser, tunc dictiirus, 
Qiiem patronum rogaturus, 
Quu77t vix Justus sit sectirus ? 

Rex tremettdcz inajestatis, 
Qui salvandos salvos gratis^ 
Salva Tfte, Fans pietatis ! 

Recordare, Jesu pie, 
Quod sum causa tuae viae ; 
Ne me perdas ilia die ! 

Qnaereus me sedisti lassus, 
Redemisti crucem passus ; 
Tantus labor non sit cassus 1 

Justse Judex ultionis, 
Donum fac remissionis 
Ante diem rationis ! 



Oro supplex et acclinis, 
Cor contritum, quasi cinis ; 
Gere curam mei finis. Amen. 

yrom tJie Dies Ir.«. 



A 



CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 



GOD COMES ;— AND WHO SHALL STAND? 

('O Kvptog Ipx^rai.) 



Ode of St. Theodore of the Studium (an abbey at Constantinople), distiti- 
guished for his sufferings and influence in the Iconoclastic controversy ; d. in exile, 
826. Translated from the Greek, by Dr. J. M. Neale, 1862. 



GOD comes ; — and who shall stand before His 
fear? 
Who bide His Presence, when He draweth near? 
My soul, my soul, prepare 
To kneel before Him there ! 

Haste, — w^eep, — be reconciled to Him before 
The fearful judgment knocketh at the door : 

Where, in the Judge's eyes, 

All bare and naked lies. 

Have mercy. Lord ! have mercy. Lord ! I cry. 
When with Thine angels Thou appear'st on high : 

And man a doom inherits. 

According to his merits. 



366 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 

How can I bear Thy fearful anger, Lord? 
I, that so often have transgressed Thy word? 

But put my sins away, 

And spare me in that day ! 

O miserable soul ! return, lament. 
Ere earthly converse end, and life be spent : 
Ere, time for sorrow o'er. 
The Bridegroom close the door ! 

Yea, I have sinned, as no man sinned beside : 
With more than human guilt my soul is dyed ; 

But spare, and save me here. 

Before that Day appear ! 

Three Persons in One Essence uncreate. 
On Whom, both Three and One, our praises wait, 
Give everlasting light 
To them that sing Thy might ! 



THE DAY IS NEAR. 



From the Greek of St. Theodore of the Studium, 826. Translated by Dr. J. 
M. Neale, 1862. 



nnHE Day is near, the judgment is at hand : 

-■- Awake, my soul ! awake, and ready stand ! 
Where chiefs shall go with them that filled the 
throne. 



THE DAY IS NEAR. 367 

Where rich and poor the same tribunal own ; 
And every thought and deed 
Shall find its righteous meed. 

There with the sheep the Shepherd of the fold 
Shall stand together ; there the young and old, 
Master and slave, one doom shall undergo ; 
Widow and maiden one tribunal know : 

Oh, woe, oh, woe, to them 

Whom lawless lives condemn ! 

That Judgment-seat, impartial in decree. 

Accepts no bribe, admits no subtilty : 

No orator persuasion may exert. 

No perjured witness wrong to right convert ; 

But air things, hid in night. 

Shall then be dragged to light. 

Let me not enter in the land of woe ; 
Let me not realms of outer darkness know ! 
Nor from the wedding-feast reject Thou me, 
For my soiled vest of immortality ; 

Bound hand and foot, and cast 

In anguish that shall last ! 

When Thou, the nations ranged on either side. 
The righteous from the sinners shalt divide. 
Then give me to be found amongst Thy sheep. 
Then from the goats Th}^ trembling servant keep, 

That I may hear the voice 

That bids Thy saints rejoice ! 



368 



CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 



When righteous inquisition shall be made, 
And the books opened, and the thrones arrayed. 
My soul, what plea to shield thee canst thou know, 
Who hast no fruit of righteousness to show, 

No holy deeds to bring 

To Christ the Lord and King? 

I hear the rich man's wail and bitter cry. 
Out of the torments of eternity : 
I know, beholding that devouring flame. 
My guilt and condemnation are the same ; 

And spare me. Lord, I say. 

In the great Judgment-Day ! 

The Word and Spirit, with the Father One, 
One Light and emanation of One Sun, 
The Word by generation, we adore, 
The Spirit by procession, evermore ; 

And with creation raise 

The thankful hymn of praise. 



THAT GREAT DAY OF WRATH. 

(^Apparebit repent iiia magna Dies Domini.^ 



An anonymous Latin poem, based on Matt. xxv. 31-46, first quoted by the Vener- 
able Bede (d. 735), in his work De Metris, and then lost sight of till Cassander pub- 
lished it in his Hymtti Ecclesiastici. See Daniel, I. p. 194 seq. ; Trench, pp. 290- 
292. Translated by Dr. John M. NealE; who introduces it with the remark, " This 
rugged but grand judgment-hymn is at least as early as the 7th century, because quoted 
by the Venerable Bede. It manifestly contains the germ of the Dies Im, to which 



THAT GREAT DAY OF WRATH. 369 

however inferior in lyric fervor and effect, it scarcely yields in devotion and simple real- 
ization of its subject." Daniel and Trench likewise put it on a par with the DiesJne 
as to simplicity and faith, but below it In majesty and terror. Both breathe the medi- 
aeval spirit of legalistic, rather than of joyous evangelic, piety. This poem is more 
narrative than hTical. The Latin is alphabetic and acrostical, every other line follow- 
ing the alphabet in the first letter, — an artificial arrangement for the eye rather than 
the ear, borrowed from Ps. cxix. and the Lamentations of Jeremiah. Other versions 
by Mrs. Charles, and E. C. Benedict. 



'" I ^HAT great Day of wrath and terror, 

^ That last Day of woe and doom, 
Like a thief at darkest midnight. 
On the sons of men shall come ; 
When the pride and pomp of ages 
All shall utterly have passed, 
And they stand in anguish, owning 
That the end is here at last. 
Then the trumpet's pealing clangor. 
Through the earth's four quarters spread. 
Waxing loud and ever louder. 
Shall convoke the quick and dead ; 
And the King of heavenly glory 
Shall assume His throne on high. 
And the cohorts of His angels 
Shall be near Him in the sky. 
Then the sun shall turn to darkness,^ 
And the moon be red as blood ; 
And the stars shall fall from heaven, 

1 Neale translates " shall turn to sackcloth.,'" which is an im- 
proper figure, and not implied in the original : — 

" Erubescit orbis lunae, sol vel obscurabitur." 
24 



370 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 

Whelmed beneath destruction's flood. 
Flame and fire and desolation 
At the Judge's feet shall go : 
Earth and sea and all abysses 
Shall His mighty sentence know. 

Then th' elect upon the right hand 
Of the Lord shall stand around ; 
But, like goats, the evil-doers 
Shall upon the left be found. 
"Come, ye Blessed, take the kingdom," 
Shall be there the King's award, 
"Which for you, before the world was, 
Of My Father was prepared : 
I was naked, and ye clothed Me, 
Poor, and ye relieved Me ; hence, 
Take the riches of My glory 
For your endless recompense." 
Then the righteous shall make question : 
"When have we beheld Thee poor. 
Lord of glory ? When relieved Thee 
Lying needy at our door ? " 
Whom the Blessed King shall answer : 
"When ye showed your charity. 
Giving bread and home and raiment, 
What ye did was done to Me." 
In like manner, to the left hand 
That most righteous Judge shall say, 
"Go, ye cursed, to Gehenna, 



THAT GREAT DAY OF WRATH. 37 1 

And the fire that is for aye : 

For in prison ye came not nigh Me ; 

Poor, ye pitied not My lot ; 

Naked, ye have never clothed Me ; 

Sick, ye visited Me not." 

They shall say : " O Christ ! when saw we 

That Thou calledst for our aid. 

And in prison, or sick or hungr}^. 

To relieve have we delayed ? " 

Whom again the Judge shall answer : 

" Since ye never cast your eyes 

On the sick and poor and needy. 

It was Me ye did despise." 

Backward, backward, at the sentence, 
To Gehenna they shall fly. 
Where the flame is never-ending. 
Where the worm can never die ; 
Where are Satan and his angels 
In profoundest dungeon bound ; 
Where are chains and lamentation. 
Where are quenchless flames around. 

But the righteous, upward soaring. 
To the heavenly land shall go, 
Midst the cohorts of the angels, 
Where is joy for evermo : 
To Jerusalem, exulting. 
They with shouts shall enter in ; 



372 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 

That true " sight of peace " and glory 

That sets free from grief and sin. 

Christ shall they behold for ever, 

Seated at the Father's hand, 

As in Beatific Vision 

His elect before Him stand. 

Wherefore man, while yet thou mayest. 
From the dragon's malice fly : ^ 
Give thy bread to feed the hungry, 
If thou seek'st to win the sky ; 
Let Thy loins be straitly girded, 
Life be pure, and heart be right; 
At the coming of the Bridegroom, 
That thy lamp may glitter bright. 



DAY OF WRATH ! THAT DAY FORETOLD. 

(^Dies ircE^ dies illa.^ 



The Dies Ir^ (Daniel, II. p. 103; Trench, p. 293, &c.). An act of humilia- 
tion, and prayer for mercy, in view of the impending Day of judgment, based upon 
Zeph. i. 15, 16; Matt. xxv. ; 2 Pet. iii. 10-12, &c. Written, in a lonely monastic cell, 
about 1250, by Thomas of Celano, the friend and biographer of St. Francis of 
Assisi. This marvellous hymn is the acknowledged masterpiece of Latin poetry, and 
the most sublime of all uninspired hymns, often translated, reproduced, and imitated, 
but never equalled. It is one of those rare productions which can never die, but increase 



1 "Ydri [= Hydri, from i)c5p6f] fraudes ergo cave," refers to 
"the old serpent" (6 odig 6 upxulog), as Satan is called, Rev. xii. 
9, 14; XX. 2, with reference to the history of temptation. Gen. iii. 
1,4. 



DAY OF WRATH ! THAT DAY FORETOLD. 373 

in value as the ages advance. It has commanded the admiration of secular poets, and 
men of letters, like Goethe, Walter Scott, and Macaulay, and has inspired some of the 
gi-eatest musicians, from Palestrina down to Mozart. The secret of the irresistible 
power of the Dies IrcB lies in the awful grandeur of the theme, the intense earnestness 
and pathos of the poet, the simple majesty and solemn music of its language, the 
stately metre, the triple rhyme, and the vowel assonances chosen in striking adaptation 
to the sense, — all combining to produce an overwhelming effect, as if we heard the final 
crash of the universe, the commotion of the opening graves, the trumpet of the arch- 
angel summoning the quick and the dead, and saw the " King of tremendous majesty " 
seated on the throne of justice and mercy, and ready to dispense everlasting life or 
everlasting woe. Goethe describes its effect upon the guilty conscience, in the cathe- 
dral-scene of Faust : — 

" Horror seizes thee ! 

The trump sounds ! 

The grave trembles ! 

And thy heart 

From the repose of its ashes, 

For fiery torment 

Brought to life again, 

Trembles up ! " 

The opening line, which is literally borrowed from the Vulgate version of Zeph. i. 15 
(as the Stahat i^/rt/^r likewise opens with a Scripture sentence, — John xix. 25) strikes 
the key-note to the whole with a startling sound, and brings lip at once the judgment- 
scene as an awful, impending reality. The feeling of terror occasioned by the contem- 
plation of that event culminates in the cry of repentance, ver. 7 : " Quid sum, miser, tunc 
dicturus," &c. ; but from this the poet rises at once to the prayer of faith, and takes 
refuge from the wrath to come in the infinite mercy of Him who suffered nameless 
pain for a guilty world, who pai^doned the sinful Magdalene, and saved the dying robber. 
— For further information, see 'Lisco^ Dies Iree, Berlin, 1840; and my articles in the 
Hours at Ho7ne, New York, May and July, 186S, with specimens of about a hundred 
translations. This new version, although quite faithful, is offered with a lively sense of 
the untranslatableness of the Dies Ir^e. 



"p\AY of wrath ! that Day foretold, 
-*-^^ By the saints and seers of old, 
Shall the world in flames infold.^ 

1 A more literal version : — 

"Day of wrath, that woful Day, 
Shall the world in ashes lay : 
David and the Sibyl say." 

But the mythical Sibyl, which, as the representative of the un- 
conscious prophecies of heathendom, is here placed alongside 



374 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 

What a trembling, what a fear, 
When the dread Judge shall appear, 
Strictly searching far and near ! 

Hark ! the trumpet's wondrous tone, 
Through the tombs of every zone. 
Summons all before the throne. 

Death shall shiver, nature quake. 
When the cr€atures shall awake, 
Answer to their Judge to make. 

Lo, the book of ages spread,^ 
From which all the deeds are read 
Of the living and the dead. 

Now, before the Judge severe. 
Hidden things must all appear : 
Nought shall pass unpunished here. 

Wretched man, what shall I plead. 
Who for me will intercede. 
When the righteous mercy need ? 

the singer and prophet of Israel, has long since lost the impor- 
tance which it once occupied in the apologetic theology of the 
fathers and schoolmen. Yet there is a truth underlying this use 
made of the Sibylline oracles, and the fourth Eclogue of Virgil, 
inasmuch as heathenism, in its nobler spirits, was groping in the 
dark after " the unknown God," and bore negative and indirect 
testimony to Christ, as the Old Testament positively and directly 
predicted and foreshadowed His coming. 

1 The liber scriptus is not the written Bible (as a translator in 
the London "Spectator," for March 7, 1868, strangely mistakes 
it), but the record of all human actions, Dan. vii. 10 ; Rev. xx. 12. 



DAY OF WRATH ! THAT DAY FORETOLD. 375 

King of dreadful majesty, 
Author of salvation free, 
Fount of pity, save Thou me ! 

Recollect, good Lord, I pray, 
I have caused Thy bitter way : 
Don't forget me on that Day ! 

Weary sat'st Thou seeking me,^ 
Died'st, redeeming, on the tree, 
Let such toil not fruitless be ! ^ 

Judge of righteousness severe, 
Grant me full remission here. 
Ere the reckoning-Day appear. 

Sighs and tears my sorrow speak, 
Shame and grief are on my cheek : 
Mercy, mercy, Lord ! I seek. 

Thou didst Mary's guilt forgive, 
And absolve the dying thief: 
Even I may hope relief.^ 



1 A touching allusion to Christ's fatigue on the journey to 
Samaria, John iv. 6. (Vulgate: "Jesus fatigatits ex itinere, 
sedebat sic supra fontem.") 

2 It is related of the celebrated Dr. Samuel Johnson, that, 
rough and coarse as he was, he could never repeat this stanza in 
Latin without bursting into a flood of tears. 

^ Copernicus composed the following epitaph for himself: — 

" Not the grace bestowed upon Paul do I pray for ; 
Not the mercy by which Thou pardonedst Peter : 
That alone which Thou grantedst the crucified robber, — 
That alone do I pray for." 



fl 



376 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 

Worthless are my prayers, I know; 
Yet, O Christ ! Thy mercy show : 
Save me from eternal woe ! 

Make me with Thy sheep to stand, 
Far from the convicted band. 
Placing me at Thy right hand. 

When the cursed are put to shame, 

Cast into devouring flame, 

With the blest then call my name ! 

Suppliant at Thy feet I lie. 
Contrite in the dust I cry : 
Care Thou for me when I die ! ^ 



DAY OF WRATH ! O DAY OF MOURNING ! 



The Dies Ir^, translated by Dr. W. J. Irons. In England, this is considered 
the best version preserving the double rhyme of the Latin, and is introduced into the 
Hymnal Noted; The PeopWs Hymnal (1867) ; and other Collections. 



T~^AY of wrath ! O Day of mourning ! 
^^^ See ! once more the Cross returning,^ 
Heaven and earth in ashes burning ! 

1 The Earl of Roscommon, in the moment of his death, re- 
peated, with the most fervent devotion, these last lines, in his 

own version : — 

" My God, my Father, and my Friend, 
Do not forsake me in my end ! " 

" Dr. Irons, like Dean Alford in his translation, adopts — in the 



DAY OF WRATH ! O DAY OF MOURNING ! 377 

O what fear man's bosom rendeth, 
When from heaven the Judge descendeth, 
On Whose sentence all dependeth ! 

Wondrous sound the Trumpet flingeth, 
Through earth's sepulchres it ringeth, 
All before the throne it bringeth ! 

Death is struck, and nature quaking ; 

All creation is awaking, 

To its Judge an answer making I 

Lo, the book exactly worded. 
Wherein all hath been recorded ; 
Thence shall judgment be awarded. 

When the Judge His seat attaineth, 
And each hidden deed arraigneth, 
Nothing unavenged remaineth. 

What shall I, frail man, be pleading, 
Who for me be interceding. 
When the just are mercy needing ? 

King of majesty tremendous, 
Who dost free salvation send us. 
Fount of pity, then befriend us ! 

place of the usual, and no doubt original: "Teste David cum 
Sibylla" — the reading of the Pai-is missal: — 

" Dies iras, dies ilia, 
Crticis expandens vexilla [Matt. xxiv. 30] 
Solvet saeclum in favilla." 



378 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 

Think, kind Jesu ! — my salvation 
Caused Thy wondrous Incarnation ; 
Leave me not to reprobation ! 

Faint and weary Thou hast sought me, 
On the cross of suffering bought me : 
Shall such grace be vainly brought me ? 

Righteous Judge of retribution, 

Grant Th}^ gift of absolution. 

Ere that reckoning-Day's conclusion ! 

Guilty, now I pour my moaning, 
All my shame with anguish owning : 
Spare, O God, Thy suppliant groaning ! 

Thou the sinful woman savedst ; 
Thou the dying thief forgavest ; 
And to me a hope vouchsafest. 

Worthless are my prayers and sighing. 
Yet, good Lord, in grace complying. 
Rescue me from fires undying ! 

With Thy favored sheep, O place me ! 
Nor among the goats abase me ; 
But to Thy right hand upraise me ! 

While the wicked are confounded. 
Doomed to flames of woe unbounded. 
Call me, with Thy saints surrounded. 




THAT DAY OF WRATH. 2>l9 

Low I kneel, with heart-submission : 
See, like ashes, my contrition; 
Help me, in my last condition ! 

[Ah ! that day of tears and mourning ! 
From the dust of earth returning, 
Man for judgment must prepare him. 

Spare, O God ! in mercy spare him ! 
Lord, who didst our souls redeem. 
Grant a blessed Requiem !] ^ 



THAT DAY OF WRATH! 



An abridged version or imitation of the Dies Ikje, by Sir Walter Scott (d. 1832), 
which has passed into many hymn-books. Following the example of Goethe's Faust 
Sir W. Scott introduced these stanzas in the sixth canto of his Lay of the Last Miti- 
strel. On his deathbed, he distinctly repeated portions of the Latin original. " To my 
Gothic ear," he once wrote to Crabbe, "the Stabat Mater, the Dies Irce, and some 
of the other hymns of the Catholic Church, are more solemn and affecting than the 
fine classical poetry of Buchanan." 



npHAT Day of wrath ! that dreadful Day, 

^ When heaven and earth shall pass away I 
What power shall be the sinner's stay? 
How shall he meet that dreadful Day? 

When, shrivelling like a parched scroll, 
The flaming heavens together roll ; 

1 The last six lines (seven in the Latin) are in different metre, 
and no part of the original hvmn, but added, in the Breviary, 
from older funeral services already in use. 



B 



380 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 

And louder yet, and yet more dread, 
Swells the high trump that wakes the dead. 

Oh ! on that Day, that wrathful Day, 
When man to judgment wakes from clay, 
Be Thou, O Christ ! the sinner's stay. 
Though heaven and earth shall pass away ! 



LO, THE DAY!— THE DAY OF LIFE. 

{Dies ilia, dies vitce.) 



This poem is a counterpart of the Dies Irce, although perhaps of earlier date, and 
presents the cheerful aspect of the Day of judgment, as the day of the complete re- 
demption of the faithful. Translated by Mrs. Charles {The Voice 0/ Christian Life 
in Song, p. 190). 



T O, the Day ! — the Day of Life, 
-^-^ Day of unimagined light, 
Day when Death itself shall die. 
And there shall be no more night ! 

Steadily that Day approacheth. 
When the just shall find their rest. 

When the wicked cease from troubling, 
And the patient reign most blest. 

See the King desired for ages, 

By the just expected long. 
Long implored, at length He hasteth, 

Cometh with salvation strong. 



g 



LO, THE day! THE DAY OF LIFE ! 38 1 

Oh, how past all utterance happy, 

Sweet, and joyful it will be 
When they who, unseen, have loved Him, 

Jesus face to face shall see ! 

In that Day, how good and pleasant 
This poor world to have despised ! 

And how mournful, ^and how bitter, 
Dear that lost world to have prized ! 

Blessed, then, earth's patient mourners, 
Who for Christ have toiled and died. 

Driven by the world's rough pressure 
In those mansions to abide ! 

There shall be no sighs or weeping. 

Not a shade of doubt or fear ; 
No old age, no want or sorrow, 

Nothing sick or lacking there. 

There the peace will be unbroken, 

Deep and solemn joy be shed. 
Youth in fadeless flower and freshness, 

And salvation perfected. 

What will be the bhss and rapture 
None can dream and none can tell, 

There to reign among the angels, 
In that heavenly home to dwell. 



ID 



382 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 

To those realms, just Judge, oh, call me ! 

Deign to open that blest gate. 
Thou whom, seeking, looking, longing, 

J, with eager hope, await ! 



WAKE, AWAKE, FOR NIGHT IS FLYING, 

( Wachet aufl riift tins die Siimine.) 



From the German of Philipp Nikolai, of Unna, Westphalia, d. 1608. Matt. 
XXV. 1-13. The midnight call of a Christian watchman, full of majesty and solemnity, 
with an appropriate tune, which is called the "king of German chorals" (Schaff's 
German Hym?i-Book, No. 157). Translated, in the metre of the original, by Miss 
Catherine Winkworth. 



^^IT'AKE, awake, for night is flying, 

The watchmen on the heights are crying 
Awake, Jerusalem, at last ! 
Midnight hears the welcome voices, 
And at the thrilling cry rejoices : 

Come forth, ye virgins, night is past ! 
The Bridegroom comes, awake; 
Your lamps with gladness take : 
Hallelujah ! 
And for His marriage-feast prepare. 
For ye must go to meet Him there. 

Zion hears the watchmen singing, 
And all her heart with joy is springing. 
She wakes, she rises from her gloom ; 



3^3 



For her Lord comes down all-glorious, 
The strong in grace, in truth victorious : 
Her Star is risen, her Light is come ! 
Ah, come. Thou blessed Lord, 
O Jesus, Son of God, 
Hallelujah ! 
We follow till the halls we see 
Where Thou hast bid us sup with Thee. 

Now let all the heavens adore Thee, 
And men and angels sing before Thee 

With harp and cymbal's clearest tone ; 
Of one pearl each shining portal. 
Where we are with the choir immortal 
Of angels round Thy dazzling throne : 
Nor eye hath seen, nor ear 
Hath yet attained to hear 
What there is ours ; 
But we rejoice, and sing to Thee 
Our hymn of joy eternally. 



REJOICE, ALL YE BELIEVERS! 

{Ermiintert etich, ihr Frommen /) 



From the German of Laurentius Laurenti, 1700. His best hymu. The origi- 
nal has ten stanzas (Schaff's G.H. B., No. 158). Translated in Hy mm from the 
Land of LutJter, Edin. 1858. Adjusted to the measure of the original. 



R 



EJOICE, all ye beHevers, 
A^nd let your lights appear I 



384 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 

The evening is advancing, 
And darker night is near : 

The Bridegroom is arising, 
And soon will He draw nigh. 

Up ! pray and watch and wrestle : 
At midnight comes the cry. 

See that your lamps are burning, 

Replenish them with oil ; 
Look now for your salvation. 

The end of earthly toil. 
The watchers on the mountain 

Proclaim the Bridegroom near ; 
Go meet Him as He cometh, 

With Hallelujahs clear ! 

Ye wise and holy virgins, 

Now raise your voices higher. 
Until, in songs of triumph, 

They meet the angel-choir. 
The marriage-feast is waiting. 

The gates wide open stand ; 
Up ! up ! ye heirs of glory : 

The Bridegroom is at hand ! 



Ye saints who here in patience 
Your cross and sufferings bore. 

Shall live and reign for ever. 
When sorrow is no more. 



LO ! HE COMES WITH CLOUDS. 385 

Around the throne of glory, 

The Lamb ye shall behold ; 
In triumph cast before Him 

Your diadems of gold ! 

There flourish palms of victory ; 

There radiant garments are ; 
There stands the peacefuUiarvest, 

Beyond the reach of war. 
There, after stormy winter, 

The flowers of earth arise, 
And from the grave's long slumber 

Shall meet again our eyes. 

Our Hope and Expectation, 

O Jesus ! now appear ; 
Arise, Thou Sun, so longed for, 

O'er this benighted sphere I 
With hearts and hands uplifted, 

We plead, O Lord ! to see 
The da}^ of our redemption, 

That brings us unto Thee ! 



LO! HE COMES WITH CLOUDS. 



By Charles Wesley, 1758. This hjunn, the English Dies Irce, was originally 
part second of a hymn in three parts, entitled "Thy Kingdom come," published in 
Wesley's Hyjnns of Intercession for all Mankittd, 1758. A somewhat similar hymn, 
in the same metre, was published by the Rev. John Cennick (first a Methodist, then 
a Moravian, d. 1755), in 1752, commencing, — 

" Lo, He Cometh ! countless trumpets 
Blow before the bloody sign." 



386 



CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 



In 1760, the Rev. Martin Madan amalgamated, with some alterations, these hymns 
of Wesley and Cennick, adopting the first, second, and fourth stanzas of Wesley, the 
third and fifth stanzas of Cennick, and substituting one of his own for the third of 
Wesley. About 1758, Thomas Olivers composed, in the same metre, a judgment- 
hymn of twenty stanzas, to which he afterwards added sixteen more. Sir Roundell 
Palmer, Nos. XC. and XCL, gives Madan's compilation (six stanzas), and eleven out 
of the thirty-six stanzas of Olivers. I prefer the original form of Wesley. There is 
much confusion about the text and authorship of these hymns. Compare the note of 
Rogers, Lyra Brit., p. 675. 



T O ! He comes with clouds descending, 
-"-^ Once for favored sinners slain ! 
Thousand, thousand saints attending. 

Swell the triumph of His train : 
Hallelujah ! 

God appears on earth to reign ! 

Every e3^e shall now behold Him 

Robed in dreadful majesty ; 
Those who set at nought and sold Him, 

Pierced, and nailed Him to the tree, 
Deeply wailing, 

Shall the true Messiah see.^ 



1 After this, Madan inserts two stanzas from Cennick, with 
some variations, as follows : — 

" Every island, sea, and mountain, 
Heaven and earth, shall flee away ; 
All who hate Him must, confounded, 
Hear the trump proclaim the day : 

Come to judgment ! 
Come to judgment, come away ! 
[Cennick, orig. : " Stand before the Son of Man."] 

" Now redemption, long expected, 
See in solemn pomp appear ! 
All His saints, by man rejected, 
Now shall meet Him in the air : 



:z) 



LO ! HE COMES WITH CLOUDS. 387 

The dear tokens of His passion 

Still His dazzling body bears, 
Cause of endless exultation 

To His ransomed worshippers ; 
With what rapture 

Gaze we on those glorious scars ! 

Yea, Amen ! let all adore Thee, 

High on Thine eternal throne ! 
Saviour, take the power and glory. 

Claim the kingdom for Thine own : 
Jah, Jehovah ! ^ 

Everlasting God, come down ! 



Hallelujah ! 
See the day of God appear !" 
[Cennick : " Now the promised kingdom's come."] 

Then follows, in Madan's compilation, a stanza which seems 
to be his own : — 

"Answer Thine own Bride and Spirit; 
Hasten, Lord, the general doom ; 
The new heaven and earth t' inherit, 
Take Thy pining exiles home : 

All creation 
Travails, groans, and bids Thee come !" 

1 Madan changed this line into — 

" O come quickly." 

Palmer adopted this alteration; but, in the other stanzas, he 
retained the original readin ;s of Wesley. 



388 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 



DAY OF JUDGMENT 



John Newton, 1725-1807 {Olney Hymns, No. 77). Likewise on the basis of the 
Dies IrcB. 



"P^AY of judgment ! Day of wonders ! 
""-^ Hark, the trumpet's awful sound, 
Louder than a thousand thunders, 

Shakes the vast creation round ! 
How the summons 

Will the sinner's heart confound ! 

See the Judge, our nature wearing, 

Clothed in majesty Divine ! 
You, who long for His appearing, 

Then shall sa}^ "This God is mine." 
Gracious Saviour, 

Own me in that day for Thine. 

At His call the dead awaken. 
Rise to life from earth and sea ; 

All the powers of nature, shaken 
By His looks, prepare to flee. 

Careless sinner, 
What will then become of thee? 



Horrors past imagination 

Will surprise your trembling heart, 



DAY OF JUDGMENT ! 389 

When you hear your condemnation : — 
" Hence, accursed wretch, depart ! 

Thou with Satan 
And his angels have thy part." 

Satan, who now tries to please you, 

Lest you timely warning take. 
When that word is past, will seize you, — 

Plunge you in the burning lake. 
Think, poor sinner. 

Thy eternal all's at stake. 

But to those who have confessed. 
Loved, and served the Lord below. 

He will say, " Come near, ye blessed, 
See the kingdom I bestow. 

You for ever 
Shall My love and glory know." 

Under sorrows and reproaches, 

May this thought your courage raise : 

Swiftly God's great Day approaches. 
Sighs shall then be changed to praise ; 

We shall triumph 
When the world is in a blaze. 



cQ 



390 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 

THE LORD WILL COME. 



By Bishop Reginald Heber, D.D. ; d. at Calcutta, 1826. From his Poetical 
Works. London, 1854, p. 43. For Second Sunday in Advent. 



^ I ^HE Lord will come ! the earth shall quake, 

-^ The hills their fix^d seat forsake ; 
And, withering, from the vault of night 
The stars withdraw their feeble light. 

The Lord will come ! but not the same 

As once in lowly form He came, 

A silent Lamb to slaughter led, 

The bruised, the suffering, and the dead. 

The Lord will come ! a dreadful form, 
With wreath of flame, and robe of storm ; 
On cherub wings, and wings of wind, 
Anointed Judge of human-kind ! 

Can this be He, who wont to stray 

A pilgrim on the world's highway. 

By power oppressed, and mocked by pride? 

O God ! is this the Crucified ? 

Go, tyrants ! to the rocks complain ! 
Go, seek the mountains' cleft in vain ! 
But faith, victorious o'er the tomb, 
Shall sing for joy, the Lord is come ! 



n . . f 


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« 


JESUS, THY CHURCH. 391 

JESUS, THY CHURCH. 


> 




William Hiley Bathurst, a clergyman of the Church of England ; b. near 
Bristol, 1796. See notice in Rogers's Lj/ra BrU., p. 40, 






TESUS, Thy Church, with longing eyes, 
^ For Thy expected coming waits ; 
When will the promised light arise. 
And glory beam from Zion's gates ? 






E'en now, when tempests round us fall, 
And wintry clouds o'er cast the sky, 

Thy words with pleasure we recall. 
And deem that our redemption's nigh. 






Come, gracious Lord, our hearts renew, 
Our foes repel, our wrongs redress ; 

Man's rooted enmity subdue, 

And crown Th}^ gospel with success. 






come and reign o'er every land ! 

Let Satan from his throne be hurled. 
All nations bow to Thy command. 

And grace revive a dying world. 




c 


Yes, Thou wilt speedily appear ; 

The smitten earth already reels ; 
And, not far off, we seem to hear 

The thunder of Thy chariot wheels. 


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( 




"^ 




d c — 


M 



392 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 

Teach us, in watchfulness and prayer, 
To wait for the appointed hour, 

And fit us by Tliy grace to share 

The triumphs of Thy conquering power. 



THE CHARIOT! THE CHARIOT ! 



By Dr. H. H. Milman, Dean of St. Paul's; b. in London, 1791 ; d. 1868. 



'T^HE chariot ! the chariot ! its wheels roll on fire, 
■*" As the Lord cometh down in the pomp of His 
ire ; 
Self-moving, it drives on its pathway of cloud, 
And the heavens with the burden of Godhead are 
bowed. 

The glory ! the glory ! By myriads are poured 
The hosts of the angels to wait on their Lord ; 
And the glorified saints, and the martyrs are there, 
And all who the palm-wreath of victory wear. 

The trumpet ! the trumpet ! The dead have all 

heard. 
Lo ! the depths of the stone-covered charnels are 

stirred ; 
From the sea, from the land, from the south and the 

north. 
The vast generations of man are come forth ! 



THE THRONE OF HIS GLORY 



393 



The judgment ! the judgment ! The thrones are 

all set, 
Where the Lamb and the white-vested elders are 

met; 
All flesh is at once in the sight of the Lord, 
And the doom of eternity hangs on His word ! 

Oh, mercy ! oh, mercy ! look down from above, 
Creator ! on us, Thy sad children, with love ; 
When beneath to their darkness the wdcked are 

driven. 
May our sanctified souls find a mansion in heaven ! 



THE THRONE OF HIS GLORY ! 



"Then shall He sit upon the throne of His Glory." By Dr. W. A. MUhlen- 
BERG, New York, 1839. 



^ I ^HE Throne of His Glory ! — as snow it is white. 

Upborne in the air by the legions of Light ; 
And, startled to life by the trumpet's last sound. 
The hosts of the nations stand waiting around. 

The Throne of His Glory ! — there lieth unsealed 
The Life-roll, the Death-roll, of names ne'er re- 
vealed. 
Now secret no longer : the millions divide 
To the right and the left, on the Throne's either side. 



394 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 

The Throne of His Glory ! — and glorious there 

stand 
The elect of His love, and the sheep of His hand ; 
While dark on His left, shrunk away from His face. 
The lost ones that sought not the Throne of His 

grace. 

The Throne of His Glory ! — my poor trembling 

soul ! 
Oh what, when arraigned there, thy dread shall 

control. 
Of that doom of the exiled, "Ye cursed depart ! " 
For ever and ever to toll on the heart. 

From thy Father an exile ? Thy home never see ? 
No, child of His mercy, unchanging and free. 
Ere creation began, in the councils of love. 
He wrote thee an heir of His kingdom above. 



LATE, LATE, SO LATE! 



The foolish virgins. Matt. xxv. ii, 12. By Alfred Tennyson, poet laureate of 
England. From Idylls of the King (the Legends of King Arthur), first publ. 1859 
(from the last poem, entitled Guinevere, which has been called his highest effort). 



L 



ATE, late, so late ! and dark the night, and chill ! 
Late, late, so late ! but we can enter still. 
"Too late, too late ! ye cannot enter now." 



cfi 



COME, LORD, AND TARRY NOT. 395 

No light had we : for that we do repent ; 
And, learning this, the Bridegroom will relent. 
"Too late, too late ! ye cannot enter now." 

No light, so late ! and dark and chill the night ! 
O let us in, that we may find the light ! 

"Too late, too late ! ye cannot enter now." 

Have we not heard the Bridegroom is so sweet ? 
O let us in, though late, to kiss His feet ! 

"No, no ; too late ! ye cannot enter now." 



COME, LORD, AND TARRY NOT. 



By HoRATius BoNAR, D.D. From his Hy7nfis of Faith and Hope, First Series. 



" Senuit mundus. 



Augustine. 



/^^OME, Lord, and tarry not : 
^-^ Bring the long-looked-for Day 
O why these years of waiting here, 
These ages of delay ? 

Come, for Thy saints still wait : 
Daily ascends their sigh ; 
The Spirit and the Bride say. Come ; 
Dost Thou not hear the cry ? 



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. - -/i c. , 


^ 


c. 




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396 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 

Come, for creation groans, 
Impatient of Thy stay, 
Worn out with these long years of ill, 
These ages of delay. 

Come, for Thy Israel pines. 
An exile from Thy fold ; 
call to mind Thy faithful word. 
And bless them as of old ! 

Come, for Thy foes are strong ; 
With taunting lip they say, 
" Where is the promised Advent now, 
And where the dreaded Day?" 

Come, for the good are few ; 
They lift the voice in vain : 
Faith waxes fainter on the earth, 
And love is on the wane. 

Come, for the truth is weak, 
And error pours abroad 
Its subtle poison o'er the earth, — 
An earth that hates her God. 

Come, for love waxes cold ; 
Its steps are faint and slow : 
Faith now is lost in unbelief. 


b 


c 


Hope's lamp burns dim and low. 


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1 




\^ 


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COME, LORD, AND TARRY NOT. 

Come, for the grave is full ; 
Earth's tombs no more can hold : 
The sated sepulchres rebel, 

And groans the heaving mould. 

Come, for the corn is ripe ; 
Put in Thy sickle now. 
Reap the great harvest of the earth, — 
Sower and reaper Thou ! 

Come, in Thy glorious might, 
Come with the iron rod. 
Scattering Thy foes before Thy face, 
Most mighty Son of God ! 

Come, spoil the strong man's house. 
Bind him and cast him hence ; 
Show Thyself stronger than the strong. 
Thyself Omnipotence. 

Come, and make all things new ; 
Build up this ruined earth. 
Restore our faded Paradise, 
Creation's second birth. 



397 



Come, and begin Thy reign 
Of everlasting peace ; 
Come, take the kingdom to Th3^self, 
Great King of righteousness ! 



398 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 



HOPE OF OUR HEARTS. 



"The Church waiting for the Son from Heaven." By Sir Edward Denny, Bart, 
a writer on prophetic topics. From his Hymns a7id Poems, London [1863]. 



T TOPE of our hearts, O Lord ! appear : 
-*- -*" Thou glorious Star of day, 
Shine forth, and chase the dreary night, 
With all our fears, away ! 

Strangers on earth, we wait for Thee : 
Oh ! leave the Father's throne ; 

Come with the shout of victory. Lord, 
And claim us for Thine own ! 

Oh ! bid the bright archangel now 

The trump of God prepare. 
To call Thy saints — the quick, the dead — 

To meet Thee in the air. 

No resting-place we seek on earth, 

No loveliness we see ; 
Our eye is on the royal crown 

Prepared for us and Thee. 

But, dearest Lord, however bright 

That crown of joy above. 
What is it to the brighter hope 

Of dwelling in Thy love? 



BRIDE OF THE LAMB, AWAKE ! 

What to the joy — the deeper joy, 
Unmingled, pure, and free — 

Of union with our Living Head, 
Of fellowship with Thee ? 

This joy e'en now on earth is ours : 

But only, Lord, above. 
Our hearts, without a pang, shall know 

The fulness of Thy love. 

There, near Thy heart, upon the throne. 
Thy ransomed bride shall see 

What grace was in the bleeding Lamb 
Who died to make her free. 



399 



BRIDE OF THE LAMB, AWAKE! 



"The Church cheered with the Hope of her Lord's Return." By Sir Edwakd 
Denny [1863]. 



TDRIDE of the Lamb, awake ! awake ! 
-^^ Why sleep for sorrow now ? 
The hope of glory, Christ, is thine, 
A child of glory thou. 

Thy spirit, through the lonely night, 

From earthly joy apart. 
Hath sighed for one that's far away. 

The Bridegroom of thy heart. 



400 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. 

But see ! the night is waning fast, 

The breaking morn is near ; 
And Jesus comes, with voice of love. 

Thy drooping heart to cheer. 

He comes — for oh ! His yearning heart 

No more can bear delay — 
To scenes of full, unmingled joy. 

To call His bride away. 

This earth, the scene of all His woe, 

A homeless wild to thee, 
Full soon, upon His heavenly throne, 

Its rightful King shall see. 

Thou, too, shalt reign, — He will not wear 

His crown of joy alone ; 
And earth His royal bride shall see 

Beside Him, on the throne. 

Then weep no more ; 'tis all thine own, 

His crown. His joy divine ; 
And, sweeter far than all beside. 

He, He Himself, is thine ! 




THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF 
CHRIST. 



" I AM the good Shepherd: the good Shepherd giveth His life for the sheep." — 
John x. ii. 

" Hereby perceive we the love of God, because He laid down His life for us." — 
I John iii. 16. 

"Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and has 
made us kings and priests unto God and His Father, — to Him be glory and dominion 
for ever and ever. Amen." — Rev. i. 5, 6. 

A LMIGHTY GOD, our Heavenly Father, who didst so love 
the world as to give Thine only-begotten Son, that whoso- 
ever believeth on Him should not perish, but have everlasting 
life : mercifully grant unto us, we beseech Thee, that Christ may 
dwell in our hearts by faith, so that we, being rooted and grounded 







in love, may be able to comprehend, with all saints, what is the 












breadth and length 


and depth and height, and to know the 










love of Christ, which passeth knowledge ; to whom, with Thee 










and the Holy Ghost, 


be glory in the Church throughout all ages, 










world without end. 


Amen. 

" Jesu, dulcedo cordium, 
Fons vivus, lumen mentium, 
Excedens omne gaudium, 
Et omne desiderium. 










t 


Nee lingua valet dicere, 










Nee litera exprimere, 












Expertus potest credere 












Quid sit Jesum diligere." 












St. Bernard. 












36 






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^ 





THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS 
OF CHRIST. 



JESU, NAME ALL NAMES ABOVE. 

['Itjgov ylvKVTare.') 



From the Greek of Theoctistus of the Studium, about a.d. 890. A cento 
from his " Suppliant Canon to Jesus," the only thing known of him. Translated by 
Dr. J. M. Neale, of Sackville College, 1862. 



TESU, name all names above, 

^ Jesu, best and dearest, 

Jesu, Fount of perfect love. 
Holiest, tenderest, nearest ! 

Jesu, source of grace completest, 

Jesu truest, Jesu sweetest, 
Jesu, Well of power divine, 
Make me, keep me, seal me Thine ! 



Jesu, open me the gate 
Which the sinner entered, 

Who in his last dying state 
Wholly on Thee ventured. 



404 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

Thou whose wounds are ever pleading, 
And Thy passion interceding, 

From my misery let me rise 

To a home in Paradise ! 

Thou didst call the prodigal ; 

Thou didst pardon Mary : 
Thou whose words can never fall, 

Love can never vary, 
Lord, amidst my lost condition 
Give — for Thou canst give — contrition ! 

Thou can'st pardon all mine ill : 

If Thou wilt, Osay, "I will"! 

Woe, that I have turned aside 

After fleshly pleasure ! 
Woe, that I have never tried 

For the heavenly treasure ! 
Treasure, safe in homes supernal ; 
Incorruptible, eternal ! 

Treasure no less price hath won 

Than the Passion of the Son ! 

Jesu, crowned with thorns for me. 
Scourged for my transgression ! 

Witnessing, through agony, 
That Thy good confession ; 

Jesu, clad in purple raiment, 

For my evils making payment ; 
Let not all Thy woe and pain, 
Let not Calvary be in vain ! 



tJ 



JESU I THE VERY THOUGHT OF THEE. 4O5 

When I reach Death's bitter sea, 

And its waves roll higher, 
Help the more forsaking me, 

As the storm draws nigher : 
Jesu, leave me not to languish, 
Helpless, hopeless, full of anguish ! 

Tell me,— "Verily, I say. 

Thou shalt be with me to-day ! " 



JESU! THE VERY THOUGHT OF THEE. 

{Jesu, dulcis memoria.^ 



" Jubilus rhythmicus de nomine Jesu," the sweetest and most evangelical (as the 
Dies Irce is the grandest, and the Stabat Mater the most pathetic) hymn of the 
middle ages, though somewhat monotonous, and wanting in progress, by St. Ber- 
nard, of Clairv'aux (called "Doctor mellifluus," flowing with honey), d. 1153. The 
original has 192 or 200 lines, in the Works of Bernard, ed. Mabillon, 1719, vol. ii. 
pp. 914, seq. (forty-eight quatrains); Daniel, I. pp. 227-230; Wackernagel, I. 
pp. 117-120 (fiftj' quatrains). Trench, p. 246, gives a selection of fifteen quatrains, 
with the remark, "Where all was beautiful, the task of selection was a hard one." 
The Roman Breviary has abridged and divided the hymn into three distinct hymns 
{yesti, dulcis 77temoria; Jesu, Rex admirabilis ; and Jesu, decus angelictun), which 
are here given in the smooth translation of E. Caswall (from the Lyra Caiholica). 
The first part has also been translated by Neale {Hymnal Noted: " Jesu ! the very 
thought is sweet"), R. Palmer ("Jesus, Thou joy of loving hearts!"), J. W. Alex- 
ander ("Jesus, how sweet Thy memory is!"), Mrs. Charles ("O Jesus! Thy 
sweet memory"), and others, and into German by Moller, Zinzendorf, Sailer, 
Konigsfeld, &c. (see Schaff's G. H. B., No. 160). 



I. 

{yesu, dulcis memorial 

"ESU ! the very thought of Thee 
With sweetness fills my breast ; 



406 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

But sweeter far Thy face to see, 
And in Thy presence rest. 

Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame. 

Nor can the memory find, 
A sweeter sound than Thy blest name, 

O Saviour of mankind ! 

O Hope of every contrite heart, 

O Joy of all the meek ! 
To those who fall, how kind Thou art ! 

How good to those who seek I 

But what to those who find ? Ah ! this 
Nor tongue nor pen can show ; 

The love of Jesus, what it is. 
None but His loved ones know-^ 

Jesu ! our only joy be Thou, 

As Thou our prize shalt be ; 
Jesu ! be Thou our glory now. 

And through eternity. 

1 Caswall has taken the liberty of making two fine stanzas 
out of the third, which reads in Latin : — 

" Jesu, spes pcenitentibus 
Quam pius es petentibus ! 
Quam bonus Te quaerentibus ! 
Sed quid invenientibus? " 

The Hymnal Noted renders this verse more faithfully thus : — 

"Jesu ! the hope of souls forlorn ! 
How good to them for sin that mourn ! 
To them that seek Thee, oh, how kind ! 
But what art Thou to them that find ? " 



JESU ! THE VERY THOUGHT OF THEE. 407 

II. 

(y^esu, I? ex admi'radi'lis.) 

O Jesu ! King most wonderful ! 

Thou Conqueror renowned ! 
Thou Sweetness most ineifable, 

In whom all joys are found I 

When once Thou visitest the heart, 

Then truth begins to shine ; 
Then earthly vanities depart ; 

Then kindles love divine. 

O Jesu ! Light of all below ! 

Thou Fount of life and fire ! 
Surpassing all the joys we know, 

All that we can desire : 

May every heart confess Thy name, 

And ever Thee adore ; 
And seeking Thee, itself inflame 

To s.eek Thee more and more. 

Thee may our tongues for ever bless ; 

Thee may we love alone ; 
And ever in our lives express 

The image of Thine own. 



408 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

III. 

(J-esu, decus angelicum.') 

O Jesu ! Thou the beauty art 

Of angel worlds above ; 
Thy name is music to the heart, 

Enchanting it with love. 

Celestial sweetness unalloyed ! 

Who eat Thee hunger still ; 
Who drink of Thee still feel a void, 

Which nought but Thou can fill. 

O my sweet Jesu ! hear the sighs 

Which unto Thee I send ; 
To Thee. mine inmost spirit cries, 

My being's hope and end ! 

Stay with us, Lord, and with Thy light 

Illume the soul's abyss ; 
Scatter the darkness of our night. 

And fill the world with bliss. 

O Jesu ! spotless virgin-flower ! 

Our love and joy I to Thee 
Be praise, beatitude, and power, 

Through all eternity. 



JESUS, HOW SWEET THY MEMORY IS ! 4O9 



JESUS, HOW SWEET THY MEMORY IS 



Another version, in part, of St. Bernard's "Jesu, dulcis memoria," by Dr. 
James W. Alexander (d. 1859), first published in Schaff's Kircheitfreund., for 

April, 1859. 

TESUS, how sweet Thy memory is ! 
^ Thinking of Thee is truest bliss : 
Beyond all honeyed sweets below 
Thy presence is it here to know. 

Tongue cannot speak a lovelier word, 
Nought more melodious can be heard, 
Nought sweeter can be thought upon, 
Than Jesus Christ, God's only Son. 

Jesus, Thou hope of those who turn. 
Gentle to those who pray and mourn. 
Ever to those who seek Thee, kind, — 
What must Thou be to those who find I 

Jesus, Thou dost true pleasures bring, 
Light of the heart, and living spring ; 
Higher than highest pleasures roll, 
Or warmest wishes of the soul. 

Lord in our bosoms ever dwell. 
And of our souls the night dispel. 
Pour on our inmost mind the ray. 
And fill our earth with blissful day. 




4IO THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

If Thou dost enter to the heart, 
Then shines the truth in every part ; 
All worldly vanities grow vile, 
And charity burns bright the while. 

This love of Jesus is most sweet. 
This laud of Jesus is most meet. 
Thousand and thousand times more dear. 
Than tongue of man can utter here. 

Praise Jesus, all with one accord. 
Crave Jesus, all, your love and Lord, 
Seek Jesus, warmly, all below. 
And seeking into rapture glow ! 

Thou art of heavenly grace the fount, 
Thou art the true Sun of God's mount. 
Scatter the saddening cloud of night ! 
And pour upon us glorious light ! 



HEART OF CHRIST MY KING! 

{Sumini regis cor, aveto.) 



One of the seven passion-hymns of St. Bernard (compare pp. 162 and 178), 
addressed to the heart of Christ ("Ad Cor Christi ") ; faithfully translated (for the first 
time, I believe) by the Rev. Dr. E. A. Washburn, of New York, June, i868. Con- 
tributed. See the Latin in Bernard's Works, and in Daniel, IV. p. 227 ; Wack- 

ERNAGEL, I. p. 123. 

T TEART of Christ my King ! I greet Thee : 
-*- -*- Gladly goes my heart to meet Thee ; 
To embrace Thee now it burneth. 



I GREET THEE. 4I I 

And with eager thirst it yearneth, 

Spirit blest, to talk with Thee. 
Oh ! what love divine compelling ! 
With what grief Thy breast was swelling ! 
All Thy soul for us o'erflowing, 
All Thy life on us bestowing, 

Sinful men from death to free !* 

Oh, that death ! in bitter anguish, 
Cruel, pitiless to languish I 
To the inmost cell it entered. 
Where the life of man was centred, 

Gnaw^ing Thy sweet heartstrings there. 
For that death which Thou hast tasted. 
For that form by sorrow wasted. 
Heart to my heart ever nearest, 
Kindle in me love the dearest ; 

This, O Lord, is all my prayer. 

O sweet Heart ! my choicest blessing. 
Cleanse my heart, its sin confessing ; 
Hardened in its worldly folly. 
Make it soft again, and holy, 

Melting all its icy ground. 
To my heart's core come, and quicken 
Me a sinner, conscience-stricken ; 
Be Thy grace my soul renewing, 
All its powers to Thee subduing. 

Languishing with love's sweet wound. 



"ft 



412 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

Open flower, with blossom fairest, 
As a rose of fragrance rarest ; 
Knit to Thee mine inmost feeHng ; 
Pierce, then pour the oil of heahng ; 

What to love of Thee is pain? 
Naught he fears, whom Thy love calleth, 
No self-s-acrlfice appalleth ; 
Love divine can have no measure. 
Every death to him is pleasure, 

Where such holy love doth reign. 

Cries my heart with living voices : 
In Thee, heart of Christ, rejoices ; 
Draw Thou nigh with gracious motion, 
Knit it, till in full devotion 

Thou its every power employ. 
Love be all my life ; no slumber 
E'er my drowsy thought incumber ; 
To Thee praying. Thee imploring, 
Thee aye praising, Thee adoring, 

Thee my sempiternal joy ! 

Heart Rose, in thy fulness blossom, 
Shed Thy perfume o'er my bosom ; 
Be Thy beauty in me growing ; 
Light the fires for ever glov^ing 

On the altar of my heart. 
Aid me. Thy dear image wearing. 
E'en Thy wounds, my Jesu, sharing, 



FAIREST LORD JESUS. 413 

Till Thy very form I borrow, 
When my bosom feels Thy sorrow, 
Piercing with its keenest dart. 

To Thy holy heart, oh, take me ! 
Thy companion, Jesu, make me. 
In that sorrow joy exceeding. 
In that beauty scarred and bleeding, 

Till my heart be wholly Thine. 
Rest, my soul ! now naught shall sever ; 
After Thee it follows ever ; 
Here its thirst finds glad fulfilling ; 
Jesu ! be Thou not unwilling. 

Take this loving heart of mine ! 



FAIREST LORD JESUS. 

(^Sc/i 9ister Herr Jesu.^ 



Frcni an old German hymn of the i2tli century (see Wichern's Collect'on of 
popular songs for his "Rough House," near Hamburg, entitled: Unsere Lieder, 
No. 207 ; and Schaff's German S. S. Hymu-Book, No. 44), which was sung by the 
Crusaders, and then forgotten, until it was recently brought to light again, and soon 
acquired a new popularity. 



T^AIREST Lord Jesus, 

-■- Ruler of nature ! 
Jesus, of God and of Mary the Son ! — 

Thee will I cherish, 

Thee will I honor ; 
Thee, my delight and my glory and crown ! 



414 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

Fair are the meadows, 

Fairer the woodlands, 
Robed in the flowery vesture of spring : 

Jesus is fairer, 

Jesus is purer, 
Making my sorrowful spirit to sing. 

Fair is the moonshine. 

Fairer the sunlight. 
Than all the starry, celestial host : 

Jesus shines brighter, 

Jesus shines purer. 
Than all the angels that heaven can boast. 



O LOVE, WHO FORMEDST ME. 



i^Liebe^ die Du mich ztim Bi'lde.^ 



From the German of Johann Scheffler, called Angelus Silesius, 1657, 
Translated by C. Winkworth (Schaff"s G. H. B., No. 312). 



f~\ LOVE, w^ho formedst me to wear 
^-^ The image of Thy Godhead here ; 
Who soughtest me with tender care 

Through all my wanderings wild and drear ; 
O Love, I give myself to Thee, 
Thine ever, only Thine to be. 



O LOVE, WHO FORMEDST ME. 415 

O Love,- who e'er life's earliest dawn 
On me Thy choice hast gently laid ; 

O Love, who here as man wast born 
And wholly like to us wast made ; 

.0 Love, I give m^'self to Thee, 

Thine ever, only Thine to be. 

O Love, who once in time wast slain, 

Pierced through and through with bitter woe ; 

O Love, w^ho wTestling thus didst gain, 
That we eternal joy might know ; 

O Love, I give mystlf to Thee, 

Thine ever, only Thine to be. 

O Love, of whom is truth and light, 
The Word and Spirit, life and power, 

Whose heart was bared to them that smite, 
To shield us in our trial hour ; 

O Love. I give myself to Thee, 

Thine ever, only Thine to be. 

O Love, who thus hath bound me fast, 
Beneath that gentle yoke of Thine ; 

Love, who hast conquered me at last 
And rapt away this heart of mine ; 

O Love, I give myself to Thee, 

Thine ever, onty Thine to be. 

O Love, who lovest me for aye. 
Who for my soul dost ever plead ; 



4l6 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

O Love, who didst my ransom pay, 

Whose power sufficeth in my stead ; 
O Love, T give myself to Thee, 
Thine ever, only Thine to be. 

O Love, who once shalt bid me rise 
From out this dying life of ours ; 

O Love, who once o'er yonder skies 
Shalt set me in the fadeless bowers ; 

O Love, I give myself to Thee, 

Thine ever, only Thine to be. 



ONE THING'S NEEDFUL. 

{Et7is ist tioth : ach Herr, diess Eine^') 



JoHANN Heinrich Schroder, 1697. Based on Luke x. 38-42 ("One thing is 
needful ; and Mary hath chosen that good part") ; i Cor. i. 30 (" Christ Jesus, who of 
God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption "). 
One of the most popular German hj'mns (Schaff's G. H. B., No. 314). This trans- 
lation, by Frances Elizabeth Cox (,S acred Hyinns from the German, Lond. 1841, 
p. 137), strictly preserves the metre of the original, and is more faithful than that of 
Miss Catherine Winkworth : "One thing is needful! Let me deem" (Lyra 
Germ., I. 1S3). 



/^NE thing's needful : then. Lord Jesus, 

^-^^ Keep this one thing in my mind ; 

All beside, though first it please us. 

Soon a grievous yoke we find. 
Beneath it, the heart is still fretting and striving ; 
No true, lasting happiness ever deriving : 



< 



ONE THINGS NEEDFUL. 417 

The gain of this one thing all loss can requite, 
And teach me in all things to find some delight. 

Soul, wilt thou this one thing find thee? 

Seek it in no earthly end ; 

Leave all Nature far behind thee, 

High above the world ascend : 
For, where God and man both in one are united, 
With God's perfect fulness the heart is delighted ; 
There, there, is the worthiest lot and the best. 
My one and my all, and my joy and my rest. 

How were Mary's thoughts devoted. 

Her eternal joy to find, 

As intent each word she noted, 

At her Saviour's feet reclined ! 
How kindled her heart, how devout was its feeling. 
While hearing the lessons that Christ was revealing ! 
For Jesus all earthly concerns she forgot. 
And all was repaid in that one happy lot. 

Thus my longings, heavenward tendmg, 

Jesu, rest alone on Thee : 

Help me, thus on Thee depending, 

Saviour ! come and dwell in me. 
Although all the world should forsake and forget 

Thee, 
In love I will follow Thee, ne'er will I quit Thee ; 
For, Jesus, both spirit and life is Thy word; 
And is there a joy which Thou dost not afford? 

27 



41 8 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

Wisdom's highest, noblest treasure, 

Jesu ! lies concealed in Thee ; 

Grant that this may still the measure 

Of my will and actions be. 
Humility there, and simplicity, reigning. 
My steps shall in wisdom for ever be training ; 
Oh ! if I of Christ have this knowledge divine. 
The fulness of heavenly wtsdo?n is mine.^ 

Christ, Thou art the sole oblation 

That I'll bring before my God : 

In his sight, I've acceptation 

Only through Thy streaming blood. 
Immaculate righteousness now I've acquired. 
Since Thou on the tree of the Cross hast expired : 
The robe of Salvation for ever is mine ; 
In this shall my faith through eternity shine. 

Let my soul, in full exemption, 

Wake up in Thy likeness now : 

Thou art made to me redemption. 

My sanctzfication Thou. 
What though, all through Hfe, in good works I had 

striven. 
For Thy sake alone my reward should be given : 



1 The last two lines are often quoted in German devotional 
books : — 

" JVe7t7t ich nur Jesum recht ke7ttie tmd weiss, 
So hab ich dcr Weiskeit voHkotmnenen Pre is. ^^ 



ONE THINGS NEEDFUL. 4I9 

Oh, let me all perishing pleasures forego, . 
And Thy life, O Jesus ! alone let me know ! 

Where should else my hopes be centred? 

Grace o'erwhelms me with its flood ; 

Thou, my Saviour, once hast entered 

Holiest heaven through Thy blood. 
Eternal redemption for sinners there finding, 
From hell's dark dominion my spirit unbinding, 
To me perfect freedom Thy entrance has brought, 
And childlike to cry, "Abba, Father," I'm taught. 

Christ Himself, my Shepherd, feeds me ; 

Peace and joy my spirit fill : 

In a pasture green. He leads me 

Forth beside the waters still. 
Oh ! nought to my soul is so sweet and reviving, 
As thus unto Jesus alone to be living : 
True happiness this, and this only supplies, 
Through faith on my Saviour, to fasten mine eyes. 

Therefore, Jesus, m}'- Salvation, 

Thou my One, my All, shalt be ! 

Prove m}' fixed determination. 

Root out all hypocrisy. 
Look well if on sin's slipper}^ paths I am hasting. 
And lead me, O Lord ! in the way everlasting : 
This one thing is needful, all others are vain ; 
I count all but loss that I Christ may obtain. 



420 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 



DEAREST OF ALL THE NAMES ABOVE. 



By Isaac Watts, D.D. 



■pvEAREST of all the names above, 
^-^ My Jesus and my God, 
Who can resist Thy heavenly love, 
Or trifle with Thy blood? 

'Tis by the merits of Thy death 

Thy Father smiles again ; 
'Tis by Thine interceding breath 

The Spirit dwells with men. 

Till God in human flesh I see, 
My thoughts no comfort find : 

The holy, just, and sacred Three 
Are terror to my mind. 

But if Immanuel's face appear, 

My hope, my joy, begins : 
His name forbids my slavish fear, 

His grace removes my sins. 

While Jews on their own law rely. 
And Greeks of wisdom boast, 

I love th' incarnate Mystery, 
And there I fix my trust. 



LOVE DIVINE, ALL LOVES EXCELLING. 42 1 



LOVE DIVINE, ALL LOVES EXCELLING. 



Charles Wesley, 1746. From Hy7n7is for those that seek, and those that have. 
Redemption m the Blood of Jesus Christ, 5th ed., 1756. 



T OVE Divine, all loves excelling, 
^-^ Joy of heaven, to earth come down, 
Fix in us Thy humble dwelling. 

All Thy faithful mercies crown. 
Jesus, Thou art all compassion, — 

Pure, unbounded love Thou art : 
Visit us with Thy salvation. 

Enter every trembling heart. 

Breathe, O breathe Thy loving Spirit 

Into every troubled breast ! 
Let us all in Thee inherit. 

Let us find that second rest. 
Take away the love of sinning ; ^ 

Alpha and Omega be ; 
End of faith, as its beginning, 

Set our hearts at liberty. 

Come, Almighty to deliver ! 
Let us all Thy life receive ; 




422 



THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 



Suddenly return, and never, 
Never more Thy temples leave. 

Thee we would be always blessing, 
Serve Thee as Thy host above ; 

Pray, and praise Thee without ceasing, 
Glory in Thy perfect love. 

Finish, then, Thy new creation ; 

Pure and spotless let us be ; 
Let us see Thy great salvation 

Perfectly secured by Thee, — 
Changed from glory into glory, 

Till in heaven we take our place, — 
Till we cast our crowns before Thee, 

Lost in wonder, love, and praise ! 



HOW WONDROUS ARE THE WORKS 
OF GOD! 



Joseph Hart, an Independent minister; b. in London, 1712; d. 1768. He pub- 
lished a Hyinn-Book, 1759, with an account of his former sinful life, and the blessed 
change wrought by the grace of God in his heart. 



T TOW wondrous are the works of God, 
-*- -*- Displayed through all the world abroad I 
Immensely great, imrqensely small. 
Yet one strange work exceeds them all. 



HOW WONDROUS ARE THE WORKS OF GOD ! 423 

He formed the sun, fair fount of light, 
The moon and stars, to rule the night ; 
But night and stars and moon and sun 
Are little works compared with one. 

He rolled the seas, and spread the skies ; 
Made valleys sink, and mountains rise ; 
The meadows clothed with native green, 
And bade the rivers glide between. 

But what are seas or skies or hills, 
Or verdant vales or gliding rills. 
To wonders man was born to prove ? 
The wonders of redeeming love ! 

'Tis far beyond what words express. 
What saints can feel, or angels guess. 
Angels, that hymn the great I Am, 
Fall down and veil before the Lamb. 

The highest heavens are short of this ; 
'Tis deeper than the vast abyss ; 
'Tis more than thought can e'er conceive. 
Or hope expect, or faith believe. 

Almighty God sighed human breath ; 
The Lord of life experienced death : 
How it was done, we can't discuss. 
But this we know, 'twas done for us. 



cfi 



424 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

Blest with this faith, then let us raise 
Our hearts in love, our voice in praise ; 
All things to us must work for good. 
For whom the Lord hath shed His blood. 

Trials may press of every sort ; 
They may be sore, — they must be short ; 
We now believe^ but soon shall view 
The greatest glories God can show. 



THE SAVIOUR! O, WHAT CHARMS! 



Anne Steele (?), daughter of a Baptist clergyman ; b. 1717, d. 1778. Under the 
name of "Theodosia," she published, in 1760, two volumes of Poems a7id Hymns. 
A third volume was published after her death. She was a great sufferer, and spent her 
life in works of benevolence. Some of her hymns are deservedly popular. This 
sweet hymn is attributed to her in popular collections, and it breathes her spirit ; but 
I have not been able to trace it to its first source. 



'T^HE Saviour ! O, what endless charms 

Dwell in that blissful sound ! 
Its influence every fear disarms, 
And spreads sweet comfort round. 

Here pardon, life, and joy divine 

In rich effusion flow 
For guilty rebels, lost in sin. 

And doomed to endless woe. 



HARK, MY SOUL ! IT IS THE LORD. 425 

The almighty Former of the skies 

Stooped to om- vile abode ; 
While angels viewed with wondering eyes, 

And hailed the incarnate God. 

O the rich depths of love divine ! 

Of bliss a boundless store ! 
Dear Saviour, let me call Thee mine ; 

I cannot wish for more. 

On Thee alone my hope relies ; 

Beneath Thy cross I fall ; 
My Lord, my Life, my Sacrifice, 

My Saviour, and my All. 



HARK, MY SOUL! IT IS THE LORD. 



"Lovest thou Me?" — yohn yyix. 16. By William Cowper (1731-1800). Olney 
Hymns, No. 118. 



TTARK, my soul ! it is the Lord ; 
-^ ^ 'Tis thy Saviour, hear His word ; 
Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee : 
" Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou Me? 

" I delivered thee when bound, 
And, when bleeding, healed thy wound ; 
Sought thee wandering, set thee right. 
Turned thy darkness into light. 



426 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

" Can a woman's tender care 
Cease towards the child she bare ? 
Yes : she may forgetful be, 
Yet will I remember thee. 

"Mine is an unchanging love, 
Higher than the heights above ; 
Deeper than the depths beneath ; 
Free and faithful, strong as death. 

"Thou shalt see My glory soon, 
When the work of grace is done ; 
Partner of My throne shalt be ; 
Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou Me?" 

Lord, it is my chief complaint. 
That my love is cold and faint ; 
Yet I love Thee and adore : 
O for grace to love Thee more ! 



HOW SWEET THE NAME OF JESUS 



The Rev. John Newton, d. 1807. Olney Hymns, 1779, No. 57. One of the 
best hymns in the English language. 



T TOW sweet the name of Jesus sounds 
■*■-*- In a believer's ear ! 
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds. 
And drives away his fear. 







'^ 


(^ 




^ 


i 


HOW SWEET THE NAjNIE OF JESUS ! 427 

It makes the wounded spirit whole, 

And calms the troubled breast ; 
'Tis manna to the hungry soul, 

And to the weary, rest. 

Dear name ! the rock on which I build 

My shield and hiding-place ; 
My never-failing treasury, filled 

With boundless stores of grace. 

By Thee, my prayers acceptance gain, 

Although with sin defiled ; 
Satan accuses me in vain. 
And I am owned a child. 

Jesus ! my Shepherd, Husband,^ Friend ; 

My Prophet, Priest, and King ; 
My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End, 

Accept the praise I bring. * . 

Weak is the effort of my heart. 

And cold my warmest thought ; 
But when I see Thee as Thou art, 

I'll praise Thee as I ought. 

Till then I would Thy love proclaim, 

With every fleeting breath ; 
And may the music of Thy name 

Refresh my soul in death I 


y 


c 


1 Many hymn-books substitute'" Guardian" for " Husband." 


p 


C 




'j 




J c — 


^ 



428 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 



ONE THERE IS, ABOVE ALL OTHERS 



"A friend that sticketh closer than a brother." — Priw. xvlii. 24. By the Rev. 
John Newton, 1779 i^Olney Hyjnns, No. 53). 



/^NE there is, above all others, 
^^^ Well deserves the name of friend ; 
His is love beyond a brother's. 

Costly, free, and knows no end : 
They who once His kindness prove. 
Find it everlasting love. 

Which of all our friends to save us. 
Could or would have shed their blood ? 

But our Jesus died to have us 
Reconciled in Him to God : 

This was boundless love indeed, 

Jesus is a friend in need. 

Men, when raised to lofty stations. 
Often know their friends no more ; 

Slight and scorn their poor relations. 
Though they valued them before : 

But our Saviour always owns 

Those whom He redeemed with groans. 



I WAS A WANDERING SHEEP. 429 

When He lived on earth abased, 
Friend of sinners was His name ; 

Now, above all glory raised, 
He rejoices in the same : 

Still He calls them brethren, friends, 

And to all their wants attends. 

Could we bear from one another 

What He daily bears from us? 
Yet this glorious Friend and Brother 

Loves us, though we treat Him thus : 
Though for good we render ill. 
He accounts us brethren still. 

Oh ! for grace our hearts to soften ; 

Teach us. Lord, at length to love. 
We, alas ! forget too often 

What a Friend we have above ; 
But, when home our souls are brought, 
We will love Thee as we ought. 



I WAS A WANDERING SHEEP. 



HoRATius BoNAR, D.D., of Kelso. First Series of Hymns of Faith and Hope 
" Lost, but found." 1857. 

" Arte inir3i, miro consilio, 
Quaerens ovem suam summus opilio, 
Ut nos revocaret ab exilio." 

Old Hymn. 

T WAS a wandering sheep, 
I did not love the fold ; 



430 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

I did not love my Shepherd's voice, 

I would not be controlled. 
I was a wayward child, 

I did not love my home ; 
I did not love my Father's voice, 

I loved afar to roam. 

The Shepherd sought His sheep, 

The Father sought His child ; 
They followed me o'er vale and hill. 

O'er deserts waste and wild. 
They found me nigh to death, 

Famished and faint and lone ; 
They bound me with the bands of love, 

They saved the wandering one ! 

They spoke in tender love, 

They raised my drooping head ; 
They gently closed my bleeding wounds. 

My fainting soul they fed. 
They washed my filth away. 

They made me clean and fair ; 
They brought me to my home in peace, — ■ 

The long-sought wanderer ! 

Jesus my Shepherd is, 

'Twas He that loved my soul ; 

'Twas He that washed me in His blood, 
'Twas He that made me whole. 



JESUS, HOW MUCH THY NAME UNFOLDS ! 43 1 

'Twas He that sought the lost, 
That found the wandering sheep ; 

'Twas He that brought me to the fold, 
'Tis He that still doth keep. 

I was a wandering sheep, 

I would not be controlled ; 
But now I love my Shepherd's voice, — . 

I love, I love the fold. 
I was a wayward child, 

I once preferred to roam ; 
But now I love my Father's voice, — 

I love, I love His home ! 



JESUS, HOW MUCH THY NAME UNFOLDS ! 



Mrs. Mary Peters ; d. 1856, at Clifton, England. 



TESUS, how much Thy name unfolds 
^ To every opened ear ! 
The pardoned sinner's memory holds 
None other half so dear. 

"Jesus ! " — it speaks a life of love. 
And sorrows meekly borne ; 

It tells of sympathy above. 
Whatever makes us mourn. 



n 

-.5 



432 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

It speaks of righteousness complete, 

Of holiness to God ; 
And, to our ears, no tale so sweet 

As His atoning blood. 

Jesus, the one who knew no sin. 
Made sin to make us just, 

Worthy art Thou our love to win. 
And worthy all our trust. 

Thy name encircles every grace 
That God as man could show ; 

There only can the Spirit trace 
A perfect life below. 

The mention of Thy name shall bow 
Our hearts to worship Thee : 

The chiefest of ten thousand. Thou ; 
The chief of sinners, we. 



STILL ON THY LOVING HEART, 

{Still an Deinem liebevollen Herzen.) 



From the German of C. J. P. Spitta {Psaltery and Harp, 1836). " Comfort in 
Jesus' Love." Translated by R. Massie {Lyra Dom., i860). 



OTILL on Thy loving heart let me repose, 

*^ Jesus, sweet Author of my joy and rest ; 

O let me pour my sorrows, cares, and woes. 

Into Thy true and sympathizing breast ! 



tr 




STILL ON THY LOVING HEART. 433 

Thy love grows never cold, but its pure flame 
Seems every day more strong and bright to glow : 

Thy truth remains eternally the same, 

Pure and unsullied as the mountain snow. 

O what is other love compared with Thine, 

Of such high value, such eternal worth ! 
What is man's love compared with love divine, 

Which never changes in this changing earth, — . 
Love, which in this cold world grows never cold ; 

Love, which decays not with the world's decay ; 
Love, which is young when all things else grow 
old, 

Which lives when heaven and earth shall pass 
away ? 

How little love unchangeable and fixed 

In this dark valley doth to man remain ! 
With what unworthy motive is it mixed ! 

How full of grief, uncertainty, and pain ! 
Love is the object which attracts all eyes : 

We win it, and already fear to part : 
A thousand rivals watch to seize the prize. 

And tear the precious idol from our heart. 

But Thou, in spite of our offences past, 

And those, alas ! which still in us are found. 

Hast loved us, Jesus, with a love so vast, 

No span can reach it, and no plummet sound. 

28 



434 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

Though the poor love we give Thee in return 
Should be extinguished, Thine is ever true ; 

Its vestal fire eternally doth burn, 

Though everlasting, always fresh and new. 

Thou, who art ever ready to embrace 

All those who truly after Thee inquire ; 
Thou who hast promised in Thy heart a place 

To all who love Thee, and a place desire, — 
O Lord, when I am anxious and deprest. 

And, dim with tears, mine eyes can hardly see, 
O let me lean upon Thy faithful breast. 

Rejoicing that e'en I am loved by Thee ! 



OUR LOT IS FALLEN. 

(Ein liehlich Loos ist uns gef alien. ^ 



"The Happy Lot." From the German of Spitta, 1836. Trsl. by Massie, i860. 



/^UR lot is faH'n in pleasant places, 

^^ A goodly heritage is ours : 

To Him, whence come all gifts and graces, 

Let us give praise with all our powers ; 
He chooses us of His free grace, 
And makes us His peculiar race. 



OUR LOT IS FALLEN. 435 

He undertook our souls' salvation, 
Our sad condition moved him so ; 

And came to us, from pure compassion, 
To raise us from our depths of woe : 

O v^onderful, surpassing love, 

Which brought Him to us from above ! 

He saw in us no real beauty. 

No virtue, nor intrinsic worth : 
Not one there was that did his duty, 

For all were sinners from their birth ; 
Nor was there one, in such distress, 
Who could our misery redress. 

Then, moved at heart with deep compassion, 
The Lord stretched out His arm to save ; 

And His own life for our salvation. 

And therewith all things, freely gave, — 

Adoption, sonship, and with this 

A whole eternity of bliss. 

O Lord of goodness so amazing. 

Not one is worthy, no ! not one ; 
We stand in shame and wonder gazing 

At the great things which Thou hast done : 
Thy crowning grace and precious blood 
Have reconciled us with our God 

We feel quite certain of obtaining 

Nothing but goodness from Thy hand. 



436 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

And wend our way, without complaining, 

Through dreary mist and barren land, 
With heaven in view, where we shall be 
Joined through eternity to Thee. 

The lines are fall'n in pleasant places, 

A goodly heritage is ours ; 
And gladly would we share the graces 

Which God's great goodness richly showers 
We offer them alike to all 
Who will obey the gracious call. 

It grieves us sore when men refuse them. 
And treat our offers with disdain. 

Or by neglect for ever lose them. 

And make the grace of God in vain : 

All ye who thirst, come here and buy ; 

And Christ will all your wants supply. 



BENEATH THE SHADOW. 



Samuel Longfellow, a Unitarian clergyman in Massachusetts ; brother of the 
celebrated poet, Henry Wadsworth L. ; published, in conjunction with the Rev. S. 
Johnson, Hymns qfthe Spirit, 1846. 



"DENEATH the shadow of the Cross, 
^^ As earthly hopes remove. 
His new commandment Jesus gives. 
His blessed word of love. 



JESUS' NAME SHALL EVER BE. 437 

O bond of union strong and deep ! 

O bond of perfect peace ! 
Not e'en the lifted cross can harm, 

If we but hold to this. 

Then, Jesus, be Thy Spirit ours ! 

And swift our feet shall move 
To deeds of pure self-sacrifice, 

And the sweet tasks of love. 



JESUS' NAME SHALL EVER BE. 



" The Blessed Name Jesus : an Evangelical Rosary." By the Rev. Dr. W. A. 
Muhlenberg, of New York, 1842. Revised by the author, Aug. 1S68, for this Col- 
lection. 

TESUS' name shall ever be 
^ For my heart its Rosary. 
I will tell it o'er and o'er, 
Always dearer than before. 

Ave Mary may not be 
For my heart its Rosary ; 
Jesus, Saviour, all in all, — 
Other name why should I call ? 

Morning hymns and evening lays, 
Noontide prayer and midnight praise. 
Heart and voice, and tune and time, 
Jesus' name they all shall chime. 



B 



438 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

Ever new and fresh the strain ; 
Of all themes, the sweet refrain : 
Time bring what it may along, 
Jesus still the unchanging song. 

Redolent with healing balm, 
Pleasure's charm and trouble's calm ; 
All of Heaven my hope and claim, 
Grace on grace in Jesus' name. 

In my soul each deepest chord 
Ring it out. One Saviour Lord ; 
Jesus, the eternal hymn 
Forth from saint and seraphim. 

Breathe it, then, my every breath ; 
Linger on my last in death ; 
Jesus — Rest in paradise ; 
Jesus — Glory in the skies ! 



IN THE SILENT MIDNIGHT WATCHES. 



Christ knocking at the door. By A. Cleveland Coxe, b. 1818 ; Bishop of the 
Protestant Episcopal diocese of Western New York (since 1866). 



TN the silent midnight watches, 

List, — thy bosom door ! 
How it knocketh, knocketh, knocketh, 
Knocketh evermore ! 



fl 



THERE IS NO LOVE LIKE JESUS LOVE. 439 

Say not 'tis thy pulse is beating : 

'Tis thy heart of sin ; 
'Tis thy Saviour knocks, and crieth, 

Rise, and let Me in ! 

Death comes down, with reckless footstep. 

To the hall and hut : 
Think you Death will stand a-kno eking 

Where the door is shut? 
Jesus waiteth, waiteth, waiteth ; 

But thy door is fast ! 
Grieved, away thy Saviour goeth : 

Death breaks in at last. 

Then 'tis thine to stand entreating 

Christ to let thee in ; 
At the gate of heaven beating, 

Wailing for thy sin. 
Nay, alas ! thou foolish virgin. 

Hast thou then forgot ? 
Jesus waited long to know thee, 

But He knows thee not ! 



THERE IS NO LOVE LIKE JESUS' LOVE. 



W. E. LiTTLEWOOD. 



^ I ^HERE is no love like the love of Jesus, 

■*• Never to fade or fall. 
Till into the fold of the peace of God 
He has gathered us all. 



440 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

There is no heart like the heart of Jesus, 

Filled with a tender lore : 
Not a throb or throe our hearts can know 

But He suffered before. 

There is no eye like the eye of Jesus, 

Piercing far away : 
Never out of the sight of its tender light 

Can the wanderer stray ! 

There is no voice like the voice of Jesus : 

Ah ! how sweet its chime, 
Like the musical ring of some rushing spring 

In the summer-time ! 

O might we listen that voice of Jesus ! 

O might we never roam, 
Till our souls should rest, in peace, on His breast. 

In the heavenly home ! 



SOULS OF MEN, WHY WILL YE SCATTER? 



" Come to Jesus." By Frederick William Faber, D.D. ; b. 1815. From his 
Hymtts, Lond. 1862, p. 289. 

OOULS of men ! why will ye scatter 
^^ Like a crowd of frightened sheep ? 
Foolish hearts ! why will ye wander 
From a love so true and deep ? 



SOULS OF MEN, WHY AVILL YE SCATTER? 44I 

Was there ever kindest shepherd 

Half SO gentle, half so sweet, 
As the Saviour who would have us 

Come and gather round His feet? 

It is God : His love looks mighty, 

But is mightier than it seems. 
'Tis our Father ; and His fondness 

Goes far out beyond our dreams. 

There's a wideness in God's mercy, 

Like the wideness of the sea ; 
There's a kindness in His justice. 

Which is more than liberty. 

There is no place where earth's sorrows 
Are more felt than up in heaven ; 

There is no place where earth's failings 
Have such kindly judgment given. 

There is welcome for the sinner. 
And more graces for the good ; 

There is mercy with the Saviour ; 
There is healing in His blood. 

There is grace enough for thousands 
Of new worlds as great as this ; 

There is room for fresh creations 
In that upper home of bliss. 







442 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

For the love of God is broader 

Than the measures of man's mind ; 

And the Heart of the Eternal 
Is most wonderfully kind. 

But we make His love too narrow 
By false limits of our own ; 

And we magnify His strictness 
With a zeal He will not own. 

There is plentiful redemption 
In the blood that has been shed ; 

There is jo}^ for all the members 
In the sorrows of the Head. 

'Tis not all we owe to Jesus : 

It is something more than all, — 

Greater good because of evil, 
Larger mercy through the fall. 

Pining souls ! come nearer Jesus ; 

And, oh, come not doubting thus, 
But with faith that trusts more bravely 

His huge tenderness for us. 

If our love were but more simple, 
We should take Him at His word ; 

And our lives would be all sunshine 
In the sweetness of our Lord. 



I BORE WITH THEE. 443 



I BORE- WITH THEE. 



"The Love of Christ, which passeth knowledge." By Christina G. Rossetti. 
From Goblin Market and other Poems, 1856 (Boston ed., pp. 81, 82). The best of 
her "Devotional Pieces," if not of all her poems. 



T BORE with thee long weary days and nights, 
Through many pangs of heart, through many 
tears ; 
I bore with thee, thy hardness, coldness, slights, 
For three and thirty years. 

Who else had dared for thee what I have dared ? 

I plunged the depth most deep from bliss above ; 
I not My flesh, I not My spirit spared : 

Give thou Me love for love. 

For thee I thirsted in the daily drought. 
For thee I trembled in the nightly frost : 

Much sweeter thou than honey to My mouth ; 
Why wilt thou still be lost ? 

I bore thee on M}^ shoulders, and rejoiced. 

Men only marked upon My shoulders borne 
The branding cross ; and shouted hungry-voiced. 

Or wagged their heads in scorn. 



c 



444 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

Thee did nails grave upon My hands ; thy name 
Did thorns for frontlets stamp between Mine 
eyes : 

I, Holy One, put on thy guilt and shame ; 
I, God, Priest, Sacrifice. 

A thief upon My right hand and My left ; 

Six hours alone, athirst, in misery : 
At length in death one smote My heart, and cleft 

A hiding-place for thee. 

Nailed to the racking cross, than bed of down 
More dear, whereon to stretch Myself and sleep : 

So did I win a kingdom, — share My crown ; 
A harvest, — come and reap. 



LISTEN TO THE WONDROUS STORY. 



Ellin Isabelle Tupper, daughter of Martin F. Tupper, the author of Prover- 
bial Philosophy. Contributed to Rogers"s Lyra Brit., 1S67. On John iii. 16. 



T ISTEN to the wondrous story, 
-*-^ How, upon the Christmas morn, 
Jesus left the realms of glory, 

As a little babe was born ; 
Left those bright and happy regions, 

Of His Father's home above. 
And the glorious angel legions. 

In His great and boundless love ! 



LISTEN TO THE WONDROUS STORY. 445 

Came into a lowly manger, 

Dwelt beneath a humble shed, 
And, among His own a stranger. 

Knew not where to lay His head ; 
Went from city unto cit}^ 

All His life was doing good, 
Weeping o'er His friend with pity. 

When beside the grave He stood. 

Love all human love exceeding 

Brought Him to a cruel death ; 
Even then, though hanging bleeding 

On the cross, His latest breath 
Spent He for His murderers, praying 

To His Father to forgive ; 
To the thief repentant saying, 

" Thou in Paradise shalt live ! " 

Oh, what love in God the Father 

To bestow His only Son ! 
Oh, what love in Christ, who rather 

Than the world should be undone. 
Came Himself to seek and save us. 

Came to claim us for His own ; 
Freely all our sins forgave us. 

Raised us to His glorious throne ! 



44^ THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 



THERE WAS NO ANGEL. 



The Divine Deliverer. John x. 30. By Mrs. Grace Webster Hinsdale, of 
Brooklyn, N.Y., April, 1868. Written for this Collection. 



nPHERE was no angel 'midst the throng 

■*- Which stood around the throne, 
Who could God's justice satisfy, 
Or for man's sin atone. 

Nor could Jehovah's love endure 

A messenger to send. 
To bear the sinner's punishment, 

The guilty to befriend. 

Not e'en the bursting floods of wrath 
Could quench the flames of love, 

Which shining hid the flashing sword 
The law unsheathed above. 

The gracious Father spoke a word 

Into His dear Son's ear. 
Which, echoing o'er the trembling earth, 

Dismissed our anxious fear. 

And, when the weary ages passed, 

God to the world appeared ; . 
And in the Babe of Bethlehem 

His glory was ensphered. 



THERE WAS NO ANGEL. 447 

No creature whom His hand had made, 

Came with that word of hope ; 
Nor was a creature's strength required 
. With Satan's power to cope. 

For God Himself in Mary's Son 

Brought grace and truth to light, 
And in the face of Jesus Christ 

We read His love aright. 

Jesus, Thou art my Lord, my God, 

Kneeling I bow to Thee ; 
For on Thy brow, though bruised with thorns, 

A crown divine I see. 

And I can trust the mighty work 

Which must be done for me. 
To those dear hands of love and power. 

Now fastened to the tree. 

If Thou wert less than one divine. 

My soul would be dismayed ; 
But through Thy human lips God speaks, — 

"'Tis I, be not afraid." 

Yet, bruised and bleeding on the cross, 

I see Thy form divine ; 
And, though upon the accursed tree, 

I joy to call Thee mine. 



44^ THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. 

The sword which should have pierced my hfe 

Has entered Thy dear breast, 
And in God's faithfulness to Thee 

My trusting heart shall rest. 

Death and the tomb no power had 

To hide Thy glory, Lord ; 
For Thou didst rise 'midst heavenly hosts, 

By whom Thou wert adored. 

And after men were comforted 

By sight of Thee again. 
Thou didst ascend to God's right hand, 

Their greater good to gain. 

Thou wilt not leave my soul alone. 

To struggle to Thy side, 
But in my spirit's helplessness 

Shall strength divine abide. 

And, when I stand on Jordan's waves. 

Thou shalt my weakness hold. 
Until at last my weary feet 

Shall walk the streets of gold. 

There, in that cloudless light serene, 

Before the shining throne 
I'll worship at the feet of Him 

Who did for me atone. 




CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND 
STRENGTH. 



" Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." 
— Matt. xi. 28. 

"Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life. And we 
believe, and are sure, that Thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God." — John 
vi. 68, 69. 

/^ BLESSED JESUS ! who dost invite all that labor and are 
heavy laden to come unto Thee, that thej may find rest for 
their souls : mercifully enable us, we beseech Thee, so to cleave 
to Thee, that, in all the trials and temptations of this mortal life, 
we may do Thy will, and enjoy Thy peace, which the world can- 
not give nor take away. Amen. 

"O DOMINE Deus ! 
Speravi in Te ; 
O care mi Jesu ! 
Nunc libera me. 
In dura catena. 
In misera poena 
Desidero Te. 
Languendo, gemendo, 
Et genuflegtendo, 
Adoro, imploro, 
Ut liberes me." 
From the Prayer- Book of Queen Mary Stuart (?). 




29 



tJ 



CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND 
STRENGTH. 



FIERCE WAS THE WILD BILLOW. 

(Zofepag rptKVfilag.) 



From the Greek of Anatolius, Patriarch of Constantinople, d. 458, by J. M. 
Neale, 1862. Christ in the tempest. Mark iv. 37-39. 



T7IERCE was the wild billow, 
-"- Dark was the night ; 
Oars labored heavily, 

Foam glimmered white ; 
Mariners trembled, 

Peril was nigh ; 
Then said the God of God : 

"Peace! it is I!" 

Ridge of the mountain-wave, 
Lower thy crest ! 



452 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 

Wail of the stormy wind,^ 

Be thou at rest ! 
Peril can none be, 

Sorrow must fly, 
Where saith the Light of Light : ^ 

"Peace! it is I ! " 

Jesu, Deliverer ! 

Come Thou to me ! 
Soothe Thou my voyaging 

Over life's sea ! 
Thou, when the storm of death 

Roars, sweeping by. 
Whisper, O Truth of Truth ! 

"Peace! it is I!" 



ART THOU WEARY? 

(KoTTOv re kol Ka/iarov.') 



By St. Stephen, called the Sabaite, from the monastery of St. Sabas or 
Sabbas, near Jerusalem, a nephew of John of Damascus, d. about 794. The following 
sweet stanzas were trsl. by Dr. Neale, not from the Office-Books of the Greek Church, 
but from a dateless Constantinopolitan book. {Hymns of the Eastern Church, p. 88.) 



A 



RT thou weary, art thou languid. 
Art thou sore distrest? 



1 Orig. : Eurocljdon, or Eurycljdon, a heavy wind. 

2 The terms " God of God," and "Light of Light," are used 



ART THOU WEARY? 453 

"Come to me," saith One, " and coming 
Be at rest ! " 

Hath He marks to lead me to Him, 

If He be my Guide? 
" In His feet and hands are wound-prints, 
And His side." 

Is there diadem, as Monarch, 

That His brow adorns? 
"Yea, a crown in very surety, 
But of thorns ! " 

If I find Him, if I follow, 

What His guerdon here ? 
" Many a sorrow, many a labor, 
Many a tear." 

If I still hold closely to Him, 

What hath He at last ? 
"Sorrow vanquished, labor ended, 
Jordan past ! " 

If I ask Him to receive me. 

Will He say me nay? 
"Not till earth, and not till heaven 
Pass away ! " 

of Christ in the Nicene Creed against the Arian heresy. Anato- 
lius was a member of the fourth general Council which met at 
Chalcedon, 451. 



454 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 

Finding, following, keeping, struggling, 

Is He sure to bless? 
"Angels, martyrs, prophets, virgins, 
Answer, Yes ! " 



LORD JESUS CHRIST, IN THEE ALONE. 

{Allein zu Dir, Herr Jesu Christ.^ 



From the German of Johann Schneesing, 1522. Lyra Germ., II. 175 (Schaff, 
No. 277). 

T ORD Jesus Christ, in Thee alone 
^^^ My hope on earth I place ; 
For other comforter is none. 

Nor help save in Thy grace. 
There is no man nor creature here. 
No angel in the heavenly sphere. 
Who at my need can succor me : 

I cry to Thee, 
For Thou canst end my misery. 

My sin is very sore and great, 

I mourn its load beneath : 
O free me from this heavy weight. 

Through Thy most precious death ! 
And with Thy Father for me plead. 
That Thou hast suffered in my stead, 
The burden then from me is rolled : 

Lord, I lay hold 
On Thy dear promises of old. 



COURAGE, MY TEMPTED HEART I 455 

And of Thy grace on me bestow 

True Christian faith, O Lord ! 
That all the sweetness I may know 

That in Thy cross is stored, — 
Love Thee o'er earthl}^ pride or pelf, 
And love my neighbor as myself; 
And when at last is come my end, 

Be Thou my friend, 
From all assaults my soul defend. 

Glory to God in highest heaven. 

The Father of all love ! 
To His dear Son, for sinners given. 

Whose grace we daily prove ! 
To God the Holy Ghost we cry. 
That we may find His comfort nigh, 
And learn how, free from sin and fear, 

To please Him here. 
And serve Him in the sinless sphere . 



COURAGE, MY TEMPTED HEART! 

{Brick durch, mein a7igefochf7ies Herz.) 



From the German of J. H. Bohmer, 1704. Translated by Miss Catherine 
WiNKWORTH [Lyra Germ., II. 192). 



/^OURAGE, my sorely-tempted heart! 
^^ Break through thy woes, forget their smart 
Come forth, and on Thy Bridegroom gaze, 
The Lamb of God, the Fount of grace ; 
Here is thy place ! 



45^ CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 

His arms are open ; thither flee ! 
There rest and peace are waiting thee, 
The deathless crown of righteousness, 
The entrance to eternal bliss ; 
He gives thee this ! 

Then combat well, of naught afraid, 
For thus His follower thou art made : 
Each battle teaches thee to fight. 
Each foe to be a braver knight, 
Armed with His might. 

If storms of fierce temptations rise, 
Unmoved we'll face the frowning skies ; 
If but the heart is true indeed, 
Christ will be with us in our need, — 
His own could bleed. 

I flee away to Thy dear cross. 
For hope is there for every loss. 
Healing for every wound and woe ; 
There all the strength of love I know, 
And feel its glow. 

Before the Holy One I fall, 
The Eternal Sacrifice for all ; 
His death has freed us from our load, 
Peace on the anguished soul bestowed, 
Brought us to God. 



NOW I HAVE FOUND THE GROUND. 457 

How then should I go mourning on? 
I look to Thee, — my fears are gone ; 
With Thee is rest that cannot cease, 
For Thou hast wrought us full release. 
And made our peace. 

Thy word hath still its glorious powers, 
The noblest chivalry is ours ; 

Thou for whom to die is gain, 

1 bring Thee here my all ! oh, deign 

To accept and reign ! 



NOW I HAVE FOUND THE GROUND, 

_ {Ick habc nun den Grtmd gefunden.) 



From the German of Joh. Andr. Rothe (a Moravian), composed for Zinzendorf 's 
birthday, 1728. Freely reproduced by John Wesley. (See the German, ten verses, 
with a note, in Schaff's G. H. B., No. 290.) 



TVTOW I have found the ground wherein 
■^ ^ Sure my soul's anchor may remain ; 
The wounds of Jesus for my sin. 

Before the world's foundation slain ; 
Whose mercy shall unshaken stay, 
When heaven and earth are fled away. 

Jesus. Thine everlasting grace 
Our scanty thought surpasses far : 

Thy heart still melts with tenderness ; 
Thine arms of love still open are. 



458 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 

Returning sinners to receive, 

That mercy they may taste and live. 

O Love, thou bottomless abyss ! 

My sins are swallowed up in Thee ; 
Covered is my unrighteousness, 

No spot of guilt remains in me ; 
While Jesus' blood, through earth and skies, 
Mercy, free, boundless mercy, cries. 

By faith I plunge me in this sea ; 

Here is my hope, my joy, my rest; 
Hither, when hell assails, I flee, 

And look unto my Saviour's breast : 
Away, sad doubt and anxious fear ! 
Mercy is all that's written here. 

Though waves and storms go o'er my head. 

Though strength and health and friends be gone ; 

Though joys be withered all, and dead. 
And every comfort be withdrawn, — 

On this my steadfast soul relies, 

Jesus, Thy mercy never dies. 

Fixed on this ground will I remain. 

Though my heart fail, and flesh decay ; 

This anchor shall my soul sustain, 
When earth's foundations melt away : 

Mercy's full power I then shall prove, 

Loved with an everlasting love. 



JESU, LOVER OF MY SOUL. 459 



JESU, LOVER OF MY SOUL. 



Rev. Charles Wesley. From his Hymns and Sacred Poems., 1740. One of 
the sweetest and most popular hymns in the English language, a worthy companion 
of Toplady's "Rock of Ages." Judged by aesthetic rules, the hymn, like St. Ber- 
nard's "Jesu, dulcis memoria," lacks progress of ideas, and is somewhat repetitious. 
The last lines of the first stanza would form an appropriate conclusion. The third 
stanza, "Wilt Thou not regard my call," is generally omitted. 



TESU, lover of my soul, 
^ Let ine to Thy bosom fly, 
While the waters near me roll,^ 

While the tempest still is high ; 
Hide me, O my Saviour ! hide, 

Till the storm of life is past; 
Safe into the haven guide, 

O receive my soul at last ! 

Other refuge have I none ; 

Hangs my helpless soul on Thee 
Leave, ah ! leave me not alone ; 

Still support and comfort me : 
All my trust on Thee is stayed ; 

All my help from Thee I bring ; 
Cover my defenceless head 

With the shadow of Thy wing. 



Originally : — 

" While the nearer waters roll.' 



O 



460 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 

Wilt Thou not regard my call? 

Wilt Thou not accept my prayer? 
Lo ! I sink, I faint, I fall ; 

Lo ! on Thee I cast my care. 
Reach me out Thy gracious hand. 

While I of Thy strength receive ; 
Hoping against hope I stand, 

Dying, and behold I live ! 

Thou, O Christ ! art all I want : 

More than all in Thee I find : 
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint. 

Heal the sick, and lead the blind. 
Just and holy is Thy name ; 

I am all unrighteousness : 
False, and full of sin I am ; 

Thou art full of truth and grace. 

Plenteous grace with Thee is found, - 

Grace to cover all my sin : 
Let the healing streams abound ; 

Make and keep me pure within. 
Thou of life the Fountain art ; 

Freely let me take of Thee : 
Spring Thou up within my heart ; 

Rise to all eternity. 



I 



ROCK OF AGES, CLEFT FOR ME. 46 1 

ROCK OF AGES, CLEFT FOR ME. 



By Augustus Montague Toplady, Vicar of Broadhembury in Devonshire 
(d. 1778, in his 38th year). First published in The Gospel Messenger, March, 1776, 
signed "A. T.," under the title, "A Prayer, living and dying, for the holiest believer 
in the world." We give the text from Toplady's Works. One of the most deeply 
evangelic and touching hynnis in any language, the favorite of manj' Christians (e.g. of 
Prince Albert in his dying hour). Faith in Christ, as the only and all-sufScient Sa- 
viour, has never found a more melting expression. It is one of those classic Ij-rics 
which sink at once into the heart, and can never be forgotten. As compared with the 
hymn of Charles Wesley, " Jesu, lover of my soul," it affords a striking illustration of 
the unity of Christian life, notwithstanding the diversity of theological conviction. The 
Calvinism of Toplady and the Arminianism of Wesley, which were arrayed against 
each other in fierce controversy, are here melted together into one common love to the 
Saviour, as the only refuge and comfort of the sinner in life and in death. Toplady's 
polemical tracts, and Wesley's polemical verses (against the Calvinistic doctrine of 
predestination), are now mere matters of history ; but the devotional hj'mns of both 
will be sung to the end of time by Christians of all creeds. We mention, as a 
curiosit}'^, that even the Lyra Catholica contains, alongside of the hymns of the 
Romish Breviary and Missal, this hjann of Toplady, but gives it as a translation 
from the Latin, "Jesus, pro me perforatus." See the next hymn. 



"D OCK of ages,^ cleft for me, 

^ Let me hide myself in Thee I 
Let the water and the blood. 
From Th}^ riven ^ side which flowed. 
Be of sin the double cm*e,^ 
Cleanse me from its guilt and power. 

Not the labors of my hands, 
Can fulfil Thy law's demands : 

1 Comp. Isa. xxvi. 4 (" in Jehovah is everlasting strength," lit. 
"rock of ages," zur olatnini)-^ Ps. xviii.3; xix. 14; Cant. ii. 14 
("in the clefts of the rock," i.e. the wounds of Christ) ; i Cor. x. 4. 

■^ Hymn-books generally change rivefi into luoimdcd. 

3 Many hymn-books substitute "■ -perfect cure," thus destroy- 
ing the obvious reference to tht gutlt and J>ozver of sin. 



462 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 

Could my zeal no respite know, 
Could my tears for ever flow, 
All for sin could not atone. 
Thou must save, and Thou alone. 

Nothing in my hand I bring. 
Simply to Thy cross I cling ; 
Naked come to Thee for dress, 
Helpless look to Thee for grace : 
Foul I to the fountain fly. 
Wash me. Saviour, or I die. 

While I draw this fleeting breath ; 
When my eye-strings break in death ; ^ 
When I soar through tracts unknown, ^ 
See Thee on Thy judgment throne. 
Rock of ages, cleft for me, 
Let me hide myself in Thee ! 



JESUS, PRO ME PERFORATUS. 

{Rock of ages, clef t for me.') 



The "Rock of Ages" in Latin. Translated, a.d. 1848, by the English states- 
man W. E. Gladstone (b. 1805). From Trayislations by Lord Lyttleton and the 



1 Better: "When my eyelids close in death." This change, 
though not strictly correct, is one of the very rare instances in 
which compilers of hymn-books have improved upon the author. 
Generally, "the endless alterations of English and German hymns 
are changes for the worse, or, as the Germans say, Verschlhnm- 
besserungen. Even this invaluable hymn has been subjected to 
ruthless mutilations. 

- Usually changed : '■'• to -worlds unknown." 



JESUS, PRO ME PERFORATUS. 463 

Right Hon. W. E. Gladsione., Lond. 1861, p. 142 ; a Collection of translations of 
choice poems of Milton, Dryden, Tennyson, Gray, Goldsmith, Heber, and Toplady 
into Greek or Latin, and of several selections from Homer, ^schylus, Horace, Dante, 
Manzoni, and Schiller into English. The volume was published in commemoration 
of the double marriage of the two authors to two sisters (July 25, 1839). 



TESUS, pro me perforatus, 
Condar intra Tuum latus. 
Tu per lympham profluentem, 
Tu per sanguinem tepentem, 
In peccata mi redunda, 
Tolle culpam, sordes munda. 

Coram Te, nee Justus for em, 
Quamvis tot^ vi laborem, 
Nee si fide nunquam cesso, 
Fletu stillans indefesso : 
Tibi soli tantum munus ; 
Salva me, Salvator unus ! 

Nil in manu mecum fero, 

Sed me versus crucem gero ; 

Vestimenta nudus oro, 

Opem debilis imploro ; 

Fontem Christi qu^ero immundus. 

Nisi laves, moribundus. 

Dum hos artus vita regit ; 
Quando nox sepulchro tegit ; 
Mortuos cum stare jubes, 
Sedens Judex inter nubes ; 
Jesus, pro me perforatus, 
Condar intra Tuum latus. 



464 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 



AWAKE, SWEET HARP OF JUDAH. 



"The Hiding-place." By Henry Kirke White; b. 1785, at Nottingham; 
d. 1806. His remains, with a memoir, have been edited by Southey. 



A WAKE, sweet harp of Judah, wake ! 
^ ^ Retune thy strings for Jesus' sake ; 
We sing the Saviour of our race, 
The Lamb, our shield and hiding-place. 

When God's right arm is bared for war, 
And thunders clothe His cloudy car ; 
Where, where, oh where shall man retire, 
To escape the horrors of His ire ? 

'Tis He, the Lamb ; to Him we fly. 
While the dread tempest passes by ; 
God sees His well-beloved's face, 
And spares us, in our hiding-place. 

Thus, while we dwell in this low scene, 
The Lamb is our unfailing screen ; 
To Him, though guilty, still we run. 
And God still spares us for His Son. 

While yet we sojourn here below. 
Pollutions still our hearts o'erflow ; 
Fallen, abject, mean, a sentenced race. 
We deeply need a hiding-place. 



WHEN THROUGH THE TORN SAIL. 465 

Yet, courage; days and years will glide, 
And we shall lay these clods aside ; 
Shall be baptized in Jordan's flood. 
And washed in Jesus' cleansing blood. 

Then pure, immortal, sinless, freed, 
We, through the Lamb, shall be decreed : 
Shall meet the Father face to face, 
And need no more a hiding-place. 



WHEN THROUGH THE TORN SAIL. 



By Bishop Reginald Heber, of Calcutta (d. 1826). " Help, Lord, or we perish ! " 



'\'X 7HEN through the torn sail the wild tempest 

^ ^ is streaming. 
When o'er the dark wave the red lightning is gleam- 
ing, 
Nor hope lends a ray, the poor seaman to cherish. 
We fly to our Maker : " Help, Lord, or we perish ! " 

O Jesus I once tossed on the breast of the billow. 
Aroused by the shriek of despair from Thy pillow. 
Now seated in glory the mariner cherish. 
Who cries in his danger : " Help, Lord, or we perish ! " 

And oh ! when the whirlwind of passion is raging. 
When hell in our heart his wild warfare is waging. 
Arise in Thy strength, Thy redeemed to cherish ; 
Rebuke the destroyer : " Help, Lord, or we perish ! " 

30 



466 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 



FROM EVERY STORMY WIND. 



The Mercy-seat. Rev. Hugh Stowell, b. 1799 ; graduated at Oxford, 1822 
Rural Dean of Salford; d. 1865. He publ. A Collectioti of Psalms mid Hymns, 1831 



L^ROM every stormy wind that blows, 
^ From every swelling tide of woes, 
There is a calm, a smx retreat : 
'Tis found beneath the mercy-seat. 

There is a place where Jesus sheds 
" The oil of gladness " on our heads ; 
A place than all beside more sweet : 
It is the bJood-bought mercy-seat. 

There is a spot where spirits blend, 
Where friend holds fellowship with friend ; 
Though sundered far, by faith they meet 
Around one common mercy-seat. 

Ah ! whither could we flee for aid. 
When tempted, desolate, dismayed? 
Or how the hosts of hell defeat. 
Had suffering saints no mercy-seat? 

There ! there on eagle wings we soar. 
And sin and sense molest no more ;^ 

1 Charles Rogers {Lyra Britannica^ p. 532) reads : — 
" And time and sense seem all no more." 



SAVIOUR I WHEN, IN DUST, TO THEE. 467 

And heaven comes down, our souls to greet, 
Where glory crowns the mercy-seat. 

O may my hand forget her skill, 
My tongue be silent, cold, and still. 
This bounding heart forget to beat, 
If I forget the mercy-seat ! 



SAVIOUR ! WHEN, IN DUST, TO THEE. 



A poetic litany, by Sir Robert Grant, an eminent philanthropist and statesman ; 
b. 1785 ; d. 1838, as Governor of Bombay. He wrote twelve sacred lyrics. This is his 
best, and one of the best in the Ensrlish language. 



OAVIOURI when, in dust, to Thee 
^^ Low we bow the adoring knee ; 
When, repentant, to the skies 
Scarce we lift our weeping eyes : 
Oh ! by all the pains and woe 
Suffered once for man below. 
Bending from Thy throne on high. 
Hear our solemn Litany ! 

By Thy helpless infant years, 
By Thy life of want and tears ; 
By Thy days of sore distress 
In the savage wilderness ; 
By the dread mysterious hour 
Of the insulting tempter's power : 



cz: 



468 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 

Turn, oh ! turn a favoring eye, 
Hear our solemn Litany ! 

By the sacred griefs that wept 
O'er the grave where Lazarus slept ; 
By the boding tears that flowed 
Over Salem's loved abode ; 
By the anguished sigh that told 
Treachery lurked within Thy fold : 
From Thy seat above the sky, 
Hear our solemn Litany ! 

By Thine hour of dire despair 
By Thine agony of prayer ; 
By the cross, the nail, the thorn, 
Piercing spear, and torturing scorn ; 
By the gloom that veiled the skies 
O'er the dreadful sacrifice : 
Listen to our humble cry. 
Hear our solemn Litany ! 

By Thy deep expiring groan ; 
By the sad sepulchral stone ; 
By the vault, whose dark abode 
Held in vain the rising God : 
O I from earth to heaven restored, 
Mighty re-ascended Lord, 
Listen, listen to the cry 
Of our solemn Litany ! 



WHEN GATHERING CLOUDS. 469 



WHEN GATHERING CLOUDS. 



Sir Robert Grant, 



TT 7HEN gathering clouds around I view, 

^ ^ And days are dark, and friends are few, 
On Him I lean, who not in vain 
Experienced every human pain : 
He sees my wants, allays my fears. 
And counts and treasures up my tears. 

If aught should tempt my soul to stray 

From heavenly wisdom's narrow way, 

To fly the good I would pursue. 

Or do the sin I would not do. 

Still He, who felt temptation's power. 

Shall guard me in that dangerous hour. 

If wounded love my bosom swell, 
Deceived by those I prized too vs ell. 
He shall His pitying aid bestow. 
Who felt on earth severer woe ; 
At once betrayed, denied, or fled. 
By those who shared His daily bread. 

If vexing thoughts within me rise, 
And sore dismayed my spirit dies, 



c 



470 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 

Still He, who once vouchsafed to bear 
The sickening anguish of despair, 
Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry. 
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye. 

When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend, 
Which covers all that was a friend, 
And from his voice, his hand, his smile, 
Divides me for a little while. 
Thou, Saviour, seest the tears I shed. 
For Thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead. 

And O ! when I have safely past. 
Through every conflict but the last, 
Still, still unchanging, watch beside 
My painful bed, for Thou hast died ! 
Then point to realms of endless day, 
And wipe the latest tear away ! 



WHEN OUR HEADS ARE BOWED. 



Dr. H. H. MiLMAN, Dean of St. Paul's, author ol History of Latin Christianity, 
and other works. 1839. 



^T /"HEN our heads are bowed with woe, 

' ' When our bitter tears o'erflow. 
When we mourn the lost, the dear, — 
Gracious Son of Mary, hear ! 



3 C_ 



WHEN OUR HEADS ARE BOWED. 47 1 

Thou our throbbing flesh hast worn ; 
Thou our mortal griefs hast borne ; 
Thou hast shed the human tear : 
Gracious Son of Mary, hear ! 

When the sullen death-bell tolls 
For our own departed souls ; 
When our final doom is near, — 
Gracious Son of Mary, hear ! 

Thou hast bowed the dying head, 
Thou the blood of life hast shed ; 
Thou hast filled a mortal bier : 
Gracious Son of Mary, hear ! 

When the heart is sad within. 
With the thought of all its sin ; 
When the spirit shrinks with fear, — 
Gracious Son of Mary, hear I 

Thou the shame, the grief, hast known. 
Though the sins were not Thine own ; 
Thou hast deigned their load to bear : 
Gracious Son of Mary, hear ! 



cfl 



472 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 



WITH TEARFUL EYES I LOOK AROUND. 



Hugh White, 1841. From The hivalicTs Hy7nn-Book, and Sir R. Palmer's 
Book of Praise. 



^T 7'ITH tearful eyes I look around ; 

' Life seems a dark and stormy sea ; 
Yet 'midst the gloom I hear a sound, 
A heavenly whisper, ^' Come to Me 



f " 



It tells me of a place of rest, 

It tells me where my soul may flee : 

Oh ! to the weary, faint, opprest, 

How sweet the bidding, " Come to Me ! 

When the poor heart with anguish learns 
That earthly props resigned must be, 

And from each broken cistern turns. 
It hears the accents, " Come to Me ! " 

When against sin I strive in vain, 
And cannot from its yoke get free, 

Sinking beneath the heavy chain. 

The words arrest me, " Come to Me ! " 

When nature shudders, loath to part 
From all I love, enjo}^, and see; 

When a faint chill steals o'er my heart, 
A sweet voice utters, " Come to Me ! " 



U 



JUST AS I AM, WITHOUT ONE PLEA. 473 

**Come, for all else must fail and die ; 

Earth is no resting-place for thee ; 
Heavenward direct thy weeping eye ; 

I am thy portion ; Come to Me ! " 

O voice of mercy, voice of love ! 

In conflict, grief, and agony. 
Support me, cheer me from above, 

And gently whisper, " Come to Me ! " 



JUST AS I AM,— WITHOUT ONE PLEA. 



Miss Charlotte Elliott (1836), daughter of the Rev. Henry Venn E., of 
St. Mary's, Brighton (d. 1841), and sister of the Rev. Edward B. EUiott, the author 
of Horce Apocalyptica. She has written several volumes, contributed one hundred 
and seventeen hymns to The Invalid's Hymn-Book, and edited the last edition of that 
compilation. The following hymn is, perhaps, the most popular, certainly one of the 
best, from her pen. 

TUST as I am, — without one plea, 
^ But that Th}^ blood was shed for me. 
And that Thou bidst me come to Thee, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am, — and waiting not 
To rid my soul of one dark blot, 
To Thee, whose blood can cleanse each spot, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am, — though tossed about. 
With many a conflict, many a doubt. 
Fightings and fears within, without, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 



474 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 

Just as I am, — poor, wretched, blind; 
Sight, riches, heaHng of the mind, 
Yea, all I need in Thee to find, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am, — Thou wilt receive, 
Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve ; 
Because Thy promise I believe, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am, — Thy love unknown 
Has broken every barrier down ; 
Now to be Thine, yea. Thine alone, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am, — of that free love 

"The breadth, length, depth, and height" to 

prove, — 
Here for a season, then above, — 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 



JUST AS THOU ART. 



Rev. Russell S. Cook, Secretary of the " New- York Sabbath Committee ; " 
d. Sept. 4, 1864. This hymn, the counterpart of the preceding hymn, was sent by the 
author to Miss Elliott, and printed anonymously in tract form. It found a place in 
Sir R. Palmer's Book of Praise, No. 326, but without the second and last stanzas, 
which are here supplied from the author's copy. 



J 



UST as thou art, — without one trace 
Of love, or joy, or inward grace. 
Or meetness for the heavenly place, 
O guilty sinner, come ! 



9 



JUST AS THOU ART. 475 

Thy sins I bore on Calvary's tree ; 
The stripes thy due were laid on Me, 
That peace and pardon might be free, — 
O wretched sinner, come ! 

Burdened with guilt, wouldst thou be blest? 
Trust not the world ; it gives no rest : 
I bring relief to hearts opprest, — 
O weary sinner, come ! 

Come, leave thy burden at the cross ; 
Count all thy gains but empty dross ; 
My grace repays all earthly loss, — 
O needy sinner, come ! 

Come, hither bring thy boding fears, 
Thy aching heart, thy bursting tears : 
'Tis mercy's voice salutes thine ears ; 
O trembling sinner, come ! 

" The Spirit and the Bride say. Come ;" 
Rejoicing saints re-echo. Come ; 
Who faints, who thirsts, who will, may come ; 
Thy Saviour bids thee come. 



476 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 



I HEARD THE VOICE OF JESUS SAY. 



HoRATius BoNAR, D.D. ; b. in Edinburgh, 180S; minister of the Free Church of 
Scotland. 1856. "Come unto Me." 



T HEARD the voice of Jesus say, 

■^ " Come unto Me and rest ; 

Lay down, thou weary one, lay down 

Thy head upon My breast." 
I came to Jesus as I was. 

Weary and worn and sad ; 
I found in Him a resting-place, 

And He has made me glad. 

I heard the voice of Jesus say, 

" Behold I I freely give 
The living water : thirsty one. 

Stoop down, and drink and live." 
I came to Jesus, and I drank 

Of that life-giving stream ; 
My thirst was quenched, my soul revived, 

And now I live in Him. 

I heard the voice of Jesus say, 
" I am this dark world's light ; 

Look unto Me, thy morn shall rise, 
And all thy day be bright." 





^ 

o 


^ 


r\ 


CI 


- 


) 


( 


A SINFUL MAN AM I. 

I looked to Jesus, and I found 
In Him my Star, my Sun ; 

And in that light of life I'll walk 
Till travelling days are done. 


477 


b 




A SINFUL MAN AM I. 


" Come 






HoRATius BoNAR. Hyijins of Faith and Hope, Third Series, 1868. 
unto Me." 






A SINFUL man am I, 
■^^^ Therefore I come to Thee, — 
To Thee, the holy and the just. 
That Thou mayst pity me. 


• 




Wert Thou not holy. Lord, 

Why should I come to Thee ? 
It is Thy holiness that makes 
Thee, Lord, so meet for me. 








Wert Thou not gracious. Lord, 
I must in dread depart : 

It is the riches of Thy grace 
That win and draw my heart. 






c 


Wert Thou not righteous. Lord, 
I dare not come to Thee : 

It is a righteous pardon. Lord, 
Alone that suiteth me. 




> 


c 


... 1 


""^ 




J 


"n 





n 



478 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 

Our God is love, — we come ; 

Our God is light, — we stay ; 
Abiding ever in His word, 

And walking in His way. 

Mercy and truth are His, 
Unchanging faithfulness ; 

The cross is all our boast and trust ; 
And Jesus is our peace. 

We give Thee glory, Lord ; 

Thy Majesty adore. 
Thee, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 

We bless for evermore. 



LO! THE STORMS OF LIFE. 



Dr. Henry Alford ; b. 1810. From his Poetical Works, 1865. 



T O ! the storms of life are breaking ; 
-"-^ Faithless fears our hearts are shaking ; 
For our succor undertaking. 

Lord and Saviour, help us ! 

Lo ! the world from Thee rebelling, 
Round Thy Church in pride is swelling ; 
With Thy word their madness quelling. 
Lord and Saviour, help us ! 



THERE IS AN EVERLASTING HOME. 479 

On Thine own command relying, 
We our onward task are plying ; 
Unto Thee for safety sighing, 
Lord and Saviom*, help us ! 

By Thy birth, Thy cross, and passion, 
By Thy tears of deep compassion, 
By Thy mighty intercession. 
Lord and Saviour, help us ! 



THERE IS AN EVERLASTING HOME. 



Latus Salvatoris. Matthew Bridges. 1852. 



'T^HERE is an everlasting home, 

-*- Where contrite souls may hide ; 
Where death and danger dare not come, — 
The Saviour's side. 

It was a cleft of matchless love, 

Opened when He had died, 
When mercy hailed in worlds above 
That wounded side. 

Hail ! Rock of Ages, pierced for me, 

The grave of all my pride ; 
Hope, peace, and heaven are all in Thee, 
Thy sheltering side. 



480 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 

There issued forth the double flood, 

The sin-atoning tide, 
In streams of water and of blood. 
From that dear side. 

There is the only Fount of Bliss, 

In joy and sorrow tried ; 
No refuge for the heart like this, — 
A Saviour's side. 

Thither the Church, through all her days. 

Points as a faithful guide, 
And celebrates with ceaseless praise 
That spear-pierced side. 



TOSSED WITH ROUGH WINDS. 



"It is I : be not afraid." — Matt. xiv. 27. By Mrs. Andrew Paton Charles, 
nee Elizabeth Rundle. She published several books anonymously. The following 
poem was revised by her for Rogers's Lyra Brit., 1867, p. 138. 



'TPOSSED with rough winds, and faint with fe..ar, 

-*■ Above the tempest, soft and clear. 
What still small accents greet mine ear? — 
Tis I : be not afraid. 

'Tis I who wash thy spirit white ; 
'Tis I who gave thy blind eyes sight ; 
'Tis I, thy Lord, thy Life, thy Light. 
'Tis I : be not afraid. 



TOSSED WITH ROUGH WINDS. 481 

These raging winds, this surging sea, 
Bear not a breath of wrath to thee ; 
That storm has all been spent on Me. 
'Tis I : be not afraid. 

This bitter cup, I drank it first ; 
To thee it is no draft accurst ; 
The hand that gives it thee is pierced. 
'Tis I : be not afraid. 

Mine eyes are watching by thy bed ; 
My arms are underneath thy head ; 
My blessing is around thee shed. 

'Tis I : be not afraid. 

When on the other side thy feet 
Shall rest, — 'mid thousand welcomes sweet. 
One well-known voice thy heart shall greet, — 
'Tis I : be not afraid. 

From out the dazzling majesty. 
Gently He'll lay His hand on thee, 
Saying, "Beloved, lovest thou Me? 
'Twas not in vain I died for thee. 

'Tis I : be not afraid." 



31 



482 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 



MY SAVIOUR, 'MID LIFE'S SCENE. 



"Save, Lord, or I perish." Mrs. Eliz. A. E. Godwin. Contributed to Ro- 
gers's Lyra Brit., 1867, p. 240. 



1\ /TY Saviour, 'mid life's varied scene 

Be Thou my stay ; 
Guide me, through each perplexing path, 

To perfect day. 
In weakness and in sin I stand ; 
Still faith can clasp Thy mighty hand. 
And follow at Thy dear command. 

My Saviour, I have nought to bring 

Worthy of Thee ; 
A broken heart Thou wilt not spurn : 

Accept of me. 
I need Thy righteousness divine, 
I plead Thy promises as mine, 
I perish if I am not Thine. 

My Saviour, wilt Thou turn away 

From such a cry? 
My refuge, and wilt Thou forget, 

And must I die ? 
Faith trembles ; but her glance of light 
Has pierced through regions dark as night, 
And entered into realms of light. 







THE WAY IS LONG AND DREARY. 483 

My Saviour, 'mid heaven's glorious throng 

I see Thee there, 
Pleading with all Thy matchless love, 

And tender care. 
Not for the angel-forms around, 
But for lost souls in fetters bound, 
That they may hear salvation's sound. 

My Saviour, thus I find my rest 

Alone with Thee, 
Beneath Thy wing I have no fear 

Of what may be. 
Strengthened with Thy all-glorious might, 
I shall be conqueror in the fight, 
Then give to Thee my crown of light. 



THE WAY IS LONG AND DREARY. 



Adelaide Anne Procter; b. in Bedford Square, London, 1825; contributor to 
Dickens's Household Words; author of Legends and Lyrics, 1S5S, i860, and other 
works; joined the Rotnan-CathoHc Church; d. 1S64. 



"^ I ^HE way is long and dreary, 
■^ The path is bleak and bare, 
Our feet are worn and wear}^ ; 

But we will not despair. 
More heavy was Th}^ burthen, 

More desolate Thy way : 
O Lamb of God, who takest 
The sin of the world away, 
Have mercy on us ! 



484 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 

The snows lie thick around us 

In the dark and gloomy night, 
And the tempest wails above us, 

And the stars have hid their light. 
But blacker was the darkness 

Round Calvary's cross that day. 
O Lamb of God, that takest 

The sin of the world away. 
Have m.ercy on us ! 

Our hearts are faint with sorrow, 

Heavy and sad to bear ; 
For we dread the bitter morrow, 

But we will not despair. 
Thou knowest all our anguish, 

And Thou wilt bid it cease. 
O Lamb of God, who takest 

The sin of the world away. 
Give us Thy peace ! 



IN THE HOURS OF PAIN AND SORROW. 



By Mrs. Helen L. Parmelee, of Albany, N.Y. ; d. 1864. From her Poems 
Religious and Miscellane07is, New York, 1865, p. 108 (a posthumous publication). 



TN the hours of pain and sorrow, 

When the world brings no relief. 
When the eye is dim and heav}^ 
And the heart oppressed with grief, 



IN THE HOURS OF PAIN AND SORROW. 485 

While blessings flee, 
Saviour, Lord, we trust in Thee ! 

When the snares of earth surround us, — 

Pride, ambition, love of ease; 
Mammon with her false allurements ; 

Words that flatter, smiles that please, — 
Then, ere we yield, . 

Saviour, Lord, be Thou our shield ! 

When forsaken, in distress, 

Poor, despised, and tempest-tost, 
With no anchor here to stay us. 

Drifting, sail and rudder lost, — 
Then save us. Thou 

Who trod this earth with weary brow I 

Thou, the hated and forsaken ! 

Thou, the bearer of the cross ! 
Crowned of thorns, and mocked, and smitten. 

Counting earthly gain but loss ; 
When scorned are we. 

We joy to be the more like Thee ! 

Thou, the Father's best beloved ! 

Thou, the throned and sceptred King ! 
Who but Thee should we, adoring, 

All our prayers and praises bring. 
Thrice blessed are we. 

Saviour, Lord, in lovino- Thee ! 



A 



486 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH, 



AMID THE DARKNESS. 



"The Voice of Christ." "Peace, be st\\\." — Mark iv. 39. Dr. Ray Palmer. 
Written 1867, and first published in his Hyin7is of my Holy Hours, New York, 1867. 



A MID the darkness, when the storm 
-^^^ Swept fierce and wild o'er GaHlee, 
Was seen of old, dear Lord, Thy form, 

All calmly walking on the sea ; 
And raging elements were still. 
Obedient to Thy sovereign will. 

So on life's restless, heaving wave, 

When night and storm my sky o'ercast. 

Oft hast Thou come to cheer and save. 
Hast changed my fear to joy at last. 

Thy voice hath bid the tumult cease. 

And soothed my throbbing heart to peace. 

But ah ! too soon my fears return. 
And dark mistrust disturbs anew : 

What smothered fires within yet burn ! 
My days of peace, alas, how few^ ! 

These heart-throes, — shall they ne'er be past ? 

These strifes, — shall they for ever last ? 



:z) 



I NEED THEE, PRECIOUS JESUS. 487 

I heed not danger, toil, nor pain, 

Care not how hard the storm ma}^ beat. 

If in my heart Thy peace may reign. 
And faith and patience keep their seat ; 

If strength divine may nerve my soul, 

And love my every thought control. 

O may that voice that quelled the sea, 
And laid the surging waves to rest. 

Speak in my spirit, set me free 

From passions that disturb my breast. 

Jesus, I yield me to Thy will. 

And wait to hear Thy " Peace, be still ! " 



I NEED THEE, PRECIOUS JESUS. 



From the People's Hyimtal, Lond. 1867, No. 499, where it is ascribed to F. Whit- 
field. 



T NEED Thee, precious Jesus, 

For I am full of sin ; 
My soul is dark and guilty, 

M}^ heart is dead within : 
I need the cleansing fountain 

Where I can always flee, 
The blood of Christ most precious. 

The sinner's perfect plea. 



488 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. 

I need Thee, blessed Jesus, 

For I am very poor ; 
A stranger and a pilgrim, 

I have no earthly store : 
I need the love of Jesus 

To cheer me on my way, 
To guide my doubting footsteps. 

To be my strength and stay. 

I need Thee, blessed Jesus ; 

I need a friend like Thee, — 
A friend to soothe and pity, 

A friend to care for me. 
I need the Heart of Jesus 

To feel each anxious care, 
To tell my every trial 

And all my sorrows share. 

I need Thee, blessed Jesus, 

And hope to see Thee soon. 
Encircled with the rainbow, 

And seated on Thy throne ! 
There, with Thy blood-bought children, 

My joy shall ever be. 
To sing Thy praise, Lord Jesus, 

To gaze, my Lord, on Thee. 




CHRIST OUR PEACE. 



" Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you : not as the world giveth, 
give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." — John 
xiv. 27. 

"He is our peace." — Eph. ii. 14. 

"The peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and 
minds through Jesus Christ." — Phil. iv. 7. 

BLESSED Saviour! who, by the shedding of Thy precious 
blood on the Cross, and by Thy glorious triumph over death 
and hell, hast procured for us the remission of sins, and the peace 
with God which passeth all understanding : grant unto us, we 
humbly beseech Thee, such an abiding sense of Thy presence, 
that, amidst the trials and tribulations of this mortal life, our 
hearts may be at peace in the enjoyment of Thy favor, and in 
hopeful anticipation of the glory of the saints in light, who 
praise Thee, with the Father and the H0I3' Ghost, for ever and 
ever. Amen. 

" Without Thy presence, wealth is bags of cares ; 

Wisdom, but folly; joy, disquiet, sadness; 
Friendship is treason, and delights are snares ; 

Pleasure's but pain, and mirth but pleasing madness. 
Without Thee, Lord, things be not what they be ; 
Nor have they being, when compared with Thee. 



In having all things, and not Thee, what have I ? 

Not having Thee, what have my labors got ? 
Let me enjoy but Thee, what further crave I? 

And, having Thee alone, what have I not? 
I wish nor sea, nor land ; nor would I be 
Possessed of heaven, heaven unpossessed of Thee." 

Francis Quarles. 



CHRIST OUR PEACE. 



O FRIEND OF SOULS! HOW BLEST. 

( Wi'e -wohl ist mir, o Freu7id der Seele?i.') 



From the German of Wolfgang Christoph Dessler, 1692. Song of Solomon, 
viii. 5 : " Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved? " 
The original (in Schaff's G. H. B., No. 301) is ver>' sweet, but difficult to translate. 
A closer version in Lyra Germ., I. 50 : " O Friend of souls, how well is me ! " An- 
other one, abridged, in the Moravian H. B., No. 389: " How blest am I, most gra- 
cious Saviour ! " 



r\ FRIEND of souls ! how blest the time 
^^ When in Thy love I rest, 
When from my weariness I climb 

E'en to Thy tender breast ! 
The night of sorrow endeth there, 

Thy rays outshine the sun, 
And in Thy pardon and Thy care 

The heaven of heavens is won. 

The world may call itself my foe, 

Or flatter and allure : 
I care not for the world, — I go 

To this tried Friend and sure. 



492 CHRIST OUR PEACE. 

And when life's fiercest storms are sent 

Upon life's wildest sea, 
My little bark is confident, 

Because it holdeth Thee. 



The law may threaten endless death 

Upon the dreadful hill ; 
Straightway from its consuming breath 

My soul mounts higher still. 
She hastes to Jesus, wounded, slain, 

And finds in Him her home. 
Whence she shall not go forth again, 

And where no death can come. 



•V 



I do not fear the wilderness 

Where Thou hast been before : 
Nay ! rather would I daily press 

After Thee, near Thee, more ! 
Thou art my strength, on Thee I lean ; 

My heart Thou makest sing. 
And to Thy pastures green at length 

Thy chosen flock wilt bring. 

To others, death seems dark and grim, 

But not, O Lord ! to me : 
I know Thou ne'er forsakest him 

Who puts his trust in Thee. 
Nay, rather, with a joyful heart 

I welcome the release 
From this dark desert, and depart 

To Thy eternal peace. 






THOU HIDDEN SOURCE. 493 



THOU HIDDEN SOURCE. 



'Jesus All, and in All."' By Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1788. 



'T^HOU hidden Source of calm repose, 

Thou all-sufficient Love Divine, 
My help and refuge from my foes, 

Secure I am while Thou art mine : 
And lo ! from sin and grief and shame, 
I hide me, Jesus, in Thy name. 

Thy mighty name salvation is. 
And keeps my happy soul above : 

Comfort it brings, and power and peace 
And joy, and everlasting love : 

To me, with Thy dear name, are given 

Pardon and holiness and heaven. 

Jesus, my All in All Thou art ; 

My rest in toil ; m}^ ease in pain ; 
The med'cine of my broken heart ; 

In war, my peace ; in loss, my gain ; 
My smile beneath the tyrant's frown ; 
In shame, my glory and my crown ; 



494 CHRIST OUR PEACE. 

In want, my plentiful supply ; 

In weakness, my almighty power; 
In bonds, my perfect liberty. 

My light in Satan's darkest hour ; 
In grief, my joy unspeakable ; 
My life in death, my All in All.i 



THE WORLD CAN NEITHER GIVE 
NOR TAKE. 



Sehna, Countess of Huntingdon; "the most extraordinary woman of her 
age;" b. 1707, d. 1791. This cento was composed by her, 1780, from two of John 
Mason's Songs of Praise (1683). Sir R. Palmer omits the last two stanzas. 



^ I ^HE world can neither give nor take, 

^ Nor can they comprehend. 
That peace of God, which Christ hath bought, 
That peace which knows no end. 

The burning bush was not consumed 

Whilst God remained there ; 
The three, when Jesus made the fourth, 

Found fire as soft as air. 

God's furnace doth in Zion stand ; 

But Zion's God sits by, 
As the refiner views his gold 

With an observant eye. 







COME, WEARY SOULS. 495 

His thoughts are high, His love is wise, 

His wounds a cure intend ; 
And, though He doth not always smile. 

He loves unto the end. 

His love is constant as the sun, 
Though clouds come oft between ; 

And, could my faith but pierce these clouds, 
It might be always seen. 

Yet I shall ever, ever sing. 

And Thou for ever shine : 
I have Thine own dear pledge for this ; 

Lord, Thou art ever mine. 



COME, WEARY SOULS. 



Miss Anne Steele; b. at Broughton, 1717; d. 1778. A lady of delicate health, 
who spent her life in works of piety and benevolence. She published, under the name 
of "Theodosia," two volumes of poems, 1760; a third volume appeared after her 
death. 



/^^OME., weary souls, with sin distressed, 
^^ The Saviour offers heavenly rest ; 
The kind, the gracious call obey. 
And cast your gloomy fears away. 

Oppressed with guilt, a painful load. 
Oh come and spread your woes abroad ! 
Divine compassion, mighty love, 
"Will all the painful load remove. 



496 CHRIST OUR PEACE. 

Here mercy's boundless ocean flows, 
To cleanse your guilt and heal your woes ; 
Pardon and life and endless peace, — 
How rich the gift, how free the grace ! 

Lord, we accept with thankful heart 
The hope Thy gracious words impart ; 
We come with trembling, yet rejoice, 
And bless the kind inviting voice. 

Dear Saviour, let Thy powerful love 
Confirm our faith, our fears remove, 
And sweetly influence every breast, 
And guide us to eternal rest. 



JESUS, MY LORD. 

(^Ach mein Herr Jesu^ Detti Nahesein.^ 



Christian Gregor, a Moravian bishop, 1778. One of the sweetest hymns from 
the holy of holies of the believer's personal communion with his Saviour, and very 
characteristic of Moravian piety in its best form. Translated by Edward Rey- 
nolds, M.D., of Boston (from an unpublished translation of Schaff's German H. B.). 
Contributed. Other translations, by C. Winkworth, "Ah, dearest Lord ! to feel that 
Thou art near" {Lyra Germ., II. 224); and by Dr. H. Mills, "Jesus, our Lord, 
when Thou art near" {Horce Germ., p. 87). 



ESUS, my Lord, Thy nearness does impart 
Sweet peace and gladness to the longing heart, 
Thy gracious smile infuse a joyous thrill. 
And soul and body with sweet pleasure fill. 
And thankfulness. 



fi 



JESUS, MY LORD. 497 

We see not with our eyes Thy friendly face, 
So full of kindness, love, and gentle grace ; 
But in our hearts we know that Thou art here. 
For Thou canst make us feel Thy presence near, 
Although unseen. 

Whoever makes it life's chief aim and end 
To have his happiness on Thee depend. 
In him a well of joy for ever springs, 
And all day long his heart is glad, and sings : 
Who is like Thee ? 

To meet us ever with a friendly face. 
In mercy, patience, and the kindest grace. 
Daily Thy rich forgiveness to bestow. 
To comfort, heal, in peace to bid us go, — 
Is Thy dehght. 

Lord, for Thy rich salvation, hear our prayer, 
And daily give us an abounding share ; 
And let our souls, in all their poverty. 
From deep-felt love be looking unto Thee 
Till life's last end. 

In sorrowing hours may our o'erflowing eyes 
For comfort look to Thy dear sacrifice ; 

And, with Thy cross before us, may we find 
Thy genuine image stamped upon our mind. 
In constant view ! 
32 



498 CHRIST OUR PEACE. 

Lord, at all times mayst Thou within us find 

A loving spirit and a childlike mind ; 

And from Th}^ wounds may we receive the power, 
Through all life's weal and woe, in every hour. 
To cling to Thee. 

Thus, till the heavens receive us, shall we be 
Like children, finding all our joys in Thee ; 
And though the tears of sorrow oft must fall. 
Yet, if Thou to our hearts art All in All, 
Sweet peace will come. 

Thy wounded hand, dear Saviour, as a friend. 

Thou dost to us in faithfulness extend ; 

At the sad sight our tears of grief must flow. 
And conscious shame come o'er us as we go. 
With thankful praise. 



O FOR A CLOSER WALK WITH GOD! 



William Cowper, 1779. Olney Hymns, No. 3. 



r~\ FOR a closer walk with God, 
^^ A calm and heavenly frame ! 
A light to shine upon the road 
That leads me to the Lamb ! 

Where is the blessedness I knew 
When first I saw the Lord ? 

Where is the soul-refreshing view 
Of Jesus and His word? 



« 




-^ 


c 




"^ 


J 


WHY SHOULD I FEAR? 499 

What peaceful hours I once enjoyed ! 

How sweet their memory still ! 
But they have left an aching void 

The world can never fill. 

Return, O holy Dove ! return, 

Sweet messenger of rest ! 
I hate the sins that made Thee mourn, 

And drove Thee from my breast. 

The dearest idol I have known, 

Whate'er that idol be. 
Help me to tear it from Thy throne, 

And worship only Thee ! 

So shall my walk be close with God, 

Calm and serene my frame ; 
So purer light shall mark the road 

That leads me to the Lamb. 

— ♦ — 
WHY SHOULD I FEAR? 


y 




Rev. John Newton, 1779. Olney Hymjts, No. 46. 






TT 7HY should I fear the darkest hour, 
^ ^ Or tremble at the tempter's power? 
Jesus vouchsafes to be my tower. 




c 




n 


^ 




"^ 


^ 


■ ^ G 





5CX) CHRIST OUR PEACE. 

Though hot the fight, why quit the field, 
Why must I either flee or yield, 
Since Jesus is my mighty shield? 

When creature comforts fade and die, 
Worldlings may weep, but why should I? 
Jesus still lives, and still is nigh. 

Though all the flocks and herds were dead. 
My soul a famine need not dread, 
For Jesus is my living bread. 

I know not what may soon betide, 
Or how my wants shall be supplied ; 
But Jesus knows, and will provide. 

Though sin would fill me with distress, 
The throne of grace I dare address. 
For Jesus is m}^ righteousness. 

Though faint my prayers, and cold my love. 
My steadfast hope shall not remove. 
While Jesus intercedes above. 

Against me earth and hell combine, 
But on my side is power divine : 
Jesus is all, and He is mine. 



JESUS, MY LORD ! MY LIFE ! MY ALL ! 5OI 



JESUS, MY LORD! MY LIFE! MY ALL 



Bj' Samuel Medley, a Baptist minister at Liverpool, b. 1738, d. 1799. He was 
converted in consequence of a severe wound which he received, as a midshipman, in 
a naval engagement with the Frencli, off Cape Lagos, 1759. 



TESUS, my Lord 1 my life ! my all ! 
^ Prostrate before Thy throne I fall ; 
Fain would my soul look up, and see 
My hope, my heaven, my all, in Thee. 

Here, in this world of sin and woe, 
I'm filled wdth tossings to and fro, 
Burdened with sin, with fear oppressed ; 
And nothing here can give me rest. 

In vain from creatures help I seek : 
Thou, only Thou, the w-ord canst speak, 
To heal my wounds and calm my grief. 
Or give my mournful heart relief. 

Lord, I am vile and poor and weak. 
Yet will I for Thy mercy seek : 
I therefore cannot turn away. 
But wait to hear what Thou wilt say. 

Oh speak and bid my soul rejoice ! 
I long to hear Thy pardoning voice : 
Say, "Peace, be still ! look up and live ; 
Life, peace, and heaven are Mine to give.' 



502 CHRIST OUR PEACE. 

Without Thy peace and presence, Lord, 
Not all the world can help afford : 
Oh, do not frown my soul away ! 
Lord, smile my darkness into day ! 

Then, filled with grateful, holy love, 
My soul in praise shall soar above, 
And with delightful joy record 
The wondrous goodness of my Lord. 



IF ONLY I HAVE THEE. 

( Wenn ich Ikn nur kabe.^ 



From the German of Novalis (or Hardenberg, of Moravian connections, 
author of several glowing hymns; d., prematurely, 1801), by Dr. George W. Be- 
THUNE, 1847, with slight changes by the editor. (B. renders the first line : " If I only 
have Thee," which disturbs the measure.) Another translation (four stanzas) in 
Hymns Jrom. the Land of Lidher, p. 96 (" If only He is mine "). 



TF only I have Thee, 
"*- If only mine Thou art. 
And to the grave 
Thy power to save 
Upholds my faithful heart, — 
Nought can then my soul annoy, 
Lost in worship, love, and joy. 

If only I have Thee, 
I gladly all forsake. 

To follow on 

Where Thou hast gone, 



IF ONLY I HAVE THEE. 503 

My pilgrim staff I take ; 
Leaving other men to stray 
In the bright, broad, crowded way. 

If only I have Thee, 
If only Thou art near, 
In sweet repose 
My eyes shall close. 
Nor Death's dark shadow fear ; 
And Thy heart's flood through my breast, 
Gentl}^ charm my soul to rest. 

If only I have Thee, 
Then all the world is mine ; 
Like those who gaze 
Upon the rays 
That from Thy glory shine, 
Rapt in holy thought of Thee, 
Earth can have no gloom for me. 

Where only I have Thee, 
There is my fatherland ; 
For everywhere 
The gifts I share 
From Thy wide-spreading hand ; 
And in all my human kind. 
Long-lost brothers dear I find. 



504 



CHRIST OUR PEACE, 



TREMBLING BEFORE THY THRONE. 



Forgiveness of sins, a joy unknown to angels. 1822. The only hymn of Augus- 
tus Lucas Hillhouse (brother of James Abraham H., who is commonly called 
"the poet Hillhouse"); h., 1792, at New Haven, Conn. ; graduated, in Yale College, 
1810; d., near Paris, 1859. This hymn was written in Paris, after 1816, and first pub- 
lished in the Christian Spectator, New Haven, April, 1822. Dr. L. Bacon (in the 
New-Engla7tder, Aug. i860) praises it rather extravagantly, as being " unsurpassed 
in the English or any other language, and as near perfection as an uninspired com- 
position can be. The thought, the feeling, the imagery, the diction, and the versifi- 
cation are all exquisite." It certainly has rare merit. Ver. 3 is the gem of the hymn. 



^REMBLING before Thine awful throne, 
^ O Lord ! in dust my sins I own : 
Justice and Mercy for my Hfe 
Contend ! — O smile, and heal the strife ! 

The Saviour smiles ! Upon my soul 
New tides of hope tumultuous roll : 
His voice proclaims my pardon found. 
Seraphic transport wings the sound ! 

Earth has a joy unknown in heaven — 
The new-born peace of sin forgiven ! 
Tears of such pure and deep delight, 
Ye angels ! never dimmed your sight. 

Ye saw of old on chaos rise 
The beauteous pillars of the skies ; 
Ye know where morn exulting springs, 
And evening folds her drooping wings. 



505 



Bright heralds of the Eternal Will, 
Abroad His errands ye fulfil ; 
Or, throned in floods of beamy day, 
Symphonious in His presence play. 

Loud is the song, — the heavenly plain 
Is shaken with the choral strain ; 
And dying echoes, floating far. 
Draw music from each shining star.^ 

But I amid your choirs shall shine, 
And all your knowledge shall be mine : 
Ye on your harps must lean to hear 
A secret chord that mine will bear ! 



YES! OUR SHEPHERD LEADS. 

{ya furivahr ! uns fuhrt mit sa7ifter Ha?id.) 



Ps. xxiii. ; Ezek. xxiv. 15. From the German of Fr. Adolph Krummacher, 
D.D. ; b. 1767 ; d. 1845, as Reformed pastor in Bremen ; author of the Parables, &c. ; a 
man of genius and lovely character. The translator in Hynnis from the Latid of 
Luther, p. 49, seems to confound him -wdth his son Friedrich Wilhelji, the cele- 
brated orator and court-preacher at Potsdam, who is better known, in England and 
America, from his Elijah ; ElisJia ; The Suffering Savioicr; King David ; &c. 



"VT^ES ! our Shepherd leads with gentle hand, 
-'- Through the dark pilgrim-land, 

1 The Andover Sabbath H. B., No. 614, substitutes, for vv. 4-6 
of the original, which certainly needs no improveinent, the fol- 
lowing stanza : — 

"Ye know where mom exulting springs, 
And evening folds her drooping wings : 
Loud is 5'our song ; the heavenly plain 
Is shaken by your choral strain." 



506 CHRIST OUR PEACE. 

His flock, so dearty bought, 
So long and fondly sought. 
Hallelujah ! 

When in clouds and mist the weak ones stray, 
He shows again the way, 
And points to them afar 
A bright and guiding star. 
Hallelujah ! 

Tenderly He watches from on high 
With an unwearied eye ; 
He comforts and sustains, 
In all their fears and pains. 
Hallelujah ! 

Through the parched, dreary desert He will guide 
To the green fountain-side ; 
Through the dark, stormy night, 
To a calm land of light. 

Hallelujah ! 

Yes ! His "little flock" are ne'er forgot; 
His mercy changes not : 
Our home is safe above, 
Within His arms of love. 

Hallelujah! 



LONG DID I TOIL. 507 



LONG DID I TOIL. 



I am His, and He is mine." By Henry Francis Lyte. 1833. 



T ONG did I toil, and knew no earthly rest ; 
-^^ Far did I rove, and found no certain home ; 
At last I sought them in His sheltering breast, 

Who spreads His arms and bids the weary come. 
With Him I found a home, a rest divine ; 
And I since then am His, and He is mine. 

Yes, He is mine ! and naught of earthly things. 
Not all the charms of pleasure, wealth, or power, 

The fame of heroes, or the pomp of kings. 
Could tempt me to forego His love an hour. 

"Go, worthless world," I cry, "with all that's thine ; 

Go ! I my Saviour's am, and He is mine." 

The good I have is from His store supplied ; 

The ill is only what He deems the best ; 
With Him my Friend, I'm rich with nought beside, 

And poor without Him, though of all possessed. 
Changes may come, — I take, or I resign, — 
Content while I am His, while He is mine. 

Whate'er may change, in Him no change is seen : 
A glorious Sun that wanes not, nor declines. 



:z) 



508 CHRIST OUR PEACE. 

Above the clouds and storms He walks serene, 
And sweetly on His people's darkness shines. 
All may depart, — I fret not, nor repine. 
While I my Saviour's am, while He is mine. 

He stays me falling ; lifts me up when down ; 

Reclaims me wandering ; guards from every foe ; 
Plants on my worthless brow the victor's crown, 

Which, in return, before His feet I throw, 
Grieved that I cannot better grace His shrine, 
Who deigns to own me His, as He is mine. 

While here, alas ! I know but half His love, 
But half discern Him, and but half adore ; 

But, when I meet Him in the realms above, 
I hope to love Him better, praise Him more. 

And feel and tell, amid the choir divine. 

How fully I am His, and He is mine. 



O BLESSED SUN, WHOSE SPLENDOR. 

{O jfesu, meine So7ine.) 



C. J. P. Spitta. " Life and Contentment in Jesus." From his Psalter und 
Har/e, 1836. Translated by R. Massie, i860. 



/^ BLESSED Sun, whose splendor 
^^ Dispels the shades of night ; 
O Jesus, my defender. 

My soul's supreme delight, — 



O BLESSED SUN, WHOSE SPLENDOR. 509 

All day I hear resounding 

A voice with silver tone, 
Which speaks of grace abounding 

Through God's eternal Son. 

A deep and heavenly feeling 

Oft seizes on my breast, 
Ah ! here is balm for healing, 

Here only is true rest ! 
Though fortune should bereave me 

Of all I love the best. 
If Christ His love still leave me, 

I freely give the rest. 

To win this precious treasure 

And matchless pearl, I would 
Give honor, wealth, and pleasure, 

And every earthly good ; 
I gladly would surrender 

The dearest thing which might 
Obscure my Sun's bright splendor. 

And rob me of His light. 

I know no life divided, 

O Lord of Hfe ! from Thee ; 
In Thee is life provided 

For all mankind and me. 
I know no death, O Jesus 

Because I live in Thee : 
Thy death it is which frees us 

From death eternally. 



c 



510 CHRIST OUR PEACE. 

I fear no tribulation, 

Since, whatsoe'er it be, 
It makes no separation 

Between my Lord and me. 
If Thou, my God and teacher, 

Vouchsafe to be my own, 
Though poor, I shall be richer 

Than monarch on his throne. 

If, while on earth I wander. 

My heart is light and blest. 
Ah ! what shall I be yonder 

In perfect peace and rest? 
O blessed thought in dying ! 

We go to meet the Lord, 
Where there shall be no sighing, 

A kingdom our reward. 

Lord, with this truth impress me, 

And write it on my heart. 
To comfort, cheer, and bless me. 

That Thou my Saviour art ; 
Without Thy love to guide me, 

I should be wholly lost ; 
The floods would quickly hide me. 

On life's wide ocean tost. 

Thy love it was which sought me. 
Thyself unsought by me. 

And to the haven brought me 
Where I would gladly be. 



c: 



NOW I HAVE FOUND A FRIEND. 5II 

The things which once distrest me, 

My heart no longer move, 
Since this sweet truth imprest me, — 

That I possess Thy love. 



NOW I HAVE FOUND A FRIEND. 



Henry Hope ; born at Belfast ; bookbinder in Dublin. The following hymn was 
printed by Mr. Hope, in 1852, for private circulation. Like other popular hymns, it 
has been unscrupulously and needlessly altered by editors of hymn-books and popular 
collections. It is here printed from a copy supplied by the author to Rogers's Lyra 
Brit., 1867. 



T^rOW I have found a friend, 
■^ ^ Jesus is mine ; 
His love shall never end, 

Jesus is mine. 
Though earthly joys decrease, 
Though earthly friendships cease. 
Now I have lasting peace, 

Jesus is mine. 

Though I grow poor and old, 

Jesus is mine ; 
Though I grow faint and cold, 

Jesus is mine. 
He shall my wants supply. 
His precious blood is nigh, 
Nought can my hope destroy, 

Jesus is mine. 






512 CHRIST OUR PEACE. 

When death is sent to me, 

Jesus is mine ; 
Welcome eternity, 

Jesus is mine. 
He my redemption is, 
Wisdom and righteousness, 
Life, light, and holiness, 

Jesus is mine. 

When earth shall pass away, 

Jesus is mine. 
In the great judgment-day, 

Jesus is mine. 
Oh ! what a glorious thing, 
Then to behold my King, — 
On tuneful harp to sing, 

Jesus is mine. 

Father, Thy name I bless, 

Jesus is mine ; 
Thine was the sovereign grace, 

Praise shall be Thine. 
Spirit of holiness. 
Sealing the Father's grace, 
Thou mad'st my soul embrace 

Jesus as mine. 






THROUGH THE LOVE OF GOD. 513 



THROUGH THE LOVE OF GOD. 



Mrs. Mary Peters; d. at Clifton, England, 1856 (Rogers's Lyra Brit., p. 461). 
Sir R. Palmer (p. 437) attributes this hymn to Mary Bowly (her maiden name), 1847. 



nPHROUGH the love of God our Saviour, 

-•■ All will be well ; 
Free and changeless is His favor, 

All, all is well. 
Precious is the blood that healed us ; 
Perfect is the grace that sealed us ; 
Strong the hand stretched forth to shield us : 

All must be well ! 

Though we pass through tribulation, 

All will be well ; 
Ours is such a full salvation, 

All, all is well ! 
Happy still, to God confiding; 
Fruitful, if in Christ abiding ; 
Holy through the Spirit's guiding, — 

All must be well ! 

We expect a bright to-morrow, 

All will be well ; 
Faith can sing, through days of sorrow. 

All, all is well ! 

33 



514 CHRIST OUR PEACE. 

On our Father's love relying, 
Jesus every need supplying, 
Or in living or in dying, 
All must be well ! 



REST, WEARY SOUL! 



Anonymous. From TJtotights for Thoughtful Hours, Edin. 1859.. from which it 
passed into Sir R. Palmer's Book of Praise, No. CCCCIX, p. 438. 



R^ 



EST, weary soul ! 
The penalty is borne, the ransom paid, 
For all thy sins full satisfaction made ; 
Strive not to do thyself what Christ has done ; 
Claim the free gift, and make the joy thine own ; 
No more by pangs of guilt and fear distrest, 

Rest, sweetly rest ! 

Rest, weary heart, 
From all thy silent griefs and secret pain. 
Thy profitless regrets and longings vain ; 
Wisdom and love have ordered all the past. 
All shall be blessedness and light at last ; 
Cast off the cares that have so long opprest ; 

Rest, sweetly rest ! 

Rest, weary head ! 
Lie down to slumber in the peaceful tomb ; 
Light from above has broken through its gloom : 



I VE FOUND A JOY IN SORROW. 515 

Here, in the place where once thy Saviour lay, 
Where He shall wake thee on a future day, 
Like a tired child upon its mother's breast, 
Rest, sweetly rest ! 

Rest, spirit free ! 
In the green pastures of the heavenly shore, 
Where sin and sorrow can approach no more, 
With all the flock by the Good Shepherd fed. 
Beside the streams of life eternal led. 
For ever with thy God and Saviour blest. 

Rest, sweetly rest ! 



I'VE FOUND A JOY IN SORROW. 



" Pilgrim Discoveries." By Mrs. Jane Crewdson {nee Fox); b. 1809; d., near 
Manchester, England, 1863. She wrote, during a protracted period of iUness, four 
volumes of genuine poetry. " Many felt that her sick-room was the highest place to 
which they could resort for refreshment of spirit, and even for mental recreation." 
From Charles Rogers's Lyra Brit., p. 649. 



T'VE found a joy in sorrow, 
•^ A secret balm for pain, 
A beautiful to-morrow 

Of sunshine after rain. 
I've found a branch of healing 

Near every bitter spring ; 
A whispered promise stealing 

O'er every broken string. 



Si6 



CHRIST OUR PEACE. 



I've found a glad hosanna 

For every woe and wail, 
A handful of sweet manna 

When grapes from Eshcol fail, 
I've found a Rock of Ages 

When desert wells were dry ; 
And, after weary stages, 

I've found an Elim nigh, — 

An Elim, with its coolness. 

Its fountains, and its shade ! 
A blessing in its fulness. 

When buds of promise fade ! 
O'er tears of soft contrition, 

I've seen a rainbow light ; 
A glory and fruition, 

So near ! — yet out of sight. 



My Saviour ! Thee possessing, 

I have the joy, the balm. 
The healing and the blessing. 

The sunshine and the psalm ; 
The promise for the fearful. 

The Elim for the faint. 
The rainbow for the tearful, 

The glory for the saint. 




LET NOT YOUR HEART BE FAINT. 517 



LET NOT YOUR HEART BE FAINT 



Rev. John A. Latrobe, a native of London. 1863. His father was Secretary 
of the Moravian Church Missions. He pubUshed several poetic volumes. See 
Rogers, L. B., p. 367. 

T ET not your heart be faint : 
-'-^ My peace I give to you, — 
Such peace as reason never planned, 
As worldlings never knew. 

'Tis not the noiseless calm 
That bodes a tempest nigh, 
Or lures the heedless mariner 
Where rocks and quicksands lie. 

'Tis not fallen nature's sleep. 
The stupor of the soul 
That knows not God, nor owns His hand, 
Though wide His thunders roll. 

'Tis not the sleep of death. 
Low in the darksome grave. 
Where the worm spreads its couch, and feeds, — 
No hand put forth to save. 

It speaks a ransomed world, 
A Father reconciled, 
A sinner to a saint transformed, 
A rebel to a child. 



VJ 



5l8 CHRIST OUR PEACE. 

It tells of joys to come ; 
It soothes the troubled breast ; 
It shines, a star amid the storm, — 
The harbinger of rest. 

Then murmur not, nor mourn, 
My people faint and few : 
Though earth to its foundation shake, 
My peace I leave with you. 



REST OF THE WEARY. 



By the Rev. John S. B. Monsell, LL.D. ; b. at St. Columbs, Derry, 1811 ; a 
gifted and fertile living hymn-writer, and author of several volumes of sacred lyrics. 
From his Hymtis of Love and Praise, Lond. 1863, p. 128. On Cant. v. 6 ("This is 
my Beloved, and this is my Friend")) and Isa. xliii. 3. 



"D EST of the weary, 

Joy of the sad, 
Hope of the dreary. 

Light of the glad ; 
Home of the stranger. 

Strength to the end. 
Refuge from danger, 

Saviour and Friend ! 

Pillow where, lying, 
Love rests its head ; 

Peace of the dying. 
Life of the dead ; 



JESUS, MY LORD, 'tIS SWEET TO REST. 519 

Path of the lowly, 

Prize at the end, 
Breath of the holy. 

Saviour and Friend I 

When my feet stumble, 

I'll to Thee cry ; 
Crown of the humble, 

Cross of the high. 
When my steps wander. 

Over me bend. 
Truer and fonder, 

Saviour and Friend ! 

Ever confessing 

Thee, I will raise 
Unto Thee blessing. 

Glory, and praise ; 
All my endeavor. 

World without end. 
Thine to be ever. 

Saviour and Friend ! 



JESUS, MY LORD, 'TIS SWEET TO REST. 

From Savile's Lyra Sacra (3d ed., Lond. 1865), where it bears the Initials " H. B.' 



JESUS, my Lord, 'tis sweet to rest 
Upon Thy tender, loving breast. 
Where deep compassions ever roll 
Towards my helpless, weary soul. 



S20 



CHRIST OUR PEACE. 



Thy love, my Saviour, dries my tears. 
Expels my griefs, and calms my fears ; 
Sheds light and gladness o'er my heart, 
And bids each anxious thought depart. 

Blest foretaste this of joys to come 
In Thy eternal, heavenly home ; 
Where I shall see Thy smiling face. 
And know Thy rich, unfathomed grace. 

That grace sustains my spirit now. 
Though still a pilgrim here below ; 
That grace suffices, comforts, guides, 
Upholds, defends, preserves, provides. 

Yes, Thou art with me, O my God ! 
To bear me on to Thy abode ; 
Where I shall never cease to prove 
Thy deep, divine, unfailing love. 

Help me to praise Thee day by day, 
Till earth's dark scenes are passed away, 
Till in Thine own unclouded light 
Thy glory satisfies my sight. 



WHEN ACROSS THE HEART. 52 1 



WHEN ACROSS THE HEART. 



From the Canterbury Hymnal, 



TT 7HEN across the heart deep waves of sorrow 

^ ^ Break, as on a dry and barren shore ; 

When hope glistens with no bright to-morrow, 

And the storm seems sweeping evermore ; 

When the cup of every earthly gladness 
Bears no taste of the life-giving stream ; 

And high hopes, as though to mock our sadness, 
Fade and die as in some fitful dream, — 

Who shall hush the weary spirit's chiding? 

Who the aching void within shall fill? 
Who shall whisper of a peace abiding. 

And each surging billow calmly still ? 

Onh^ He whose wounded heart was broken 
With the bitter cross and thorny crown ; 

Whose dear love glad words of joy had spoken ; 
Who His life for us laid meekly down. 

Blessed Healer ! all our burdens lighten ; 

Give us peace, Thine own sweet peace, we pray; 
Keep us near Thee till the morn shall brighten, 

And all mists and shadows flee away. 



522 CHRIST OUR PEACE, 



SWEET WAS THE HOUR, O LORD! 



The well of Sychar. By Sir Edward Denny, Bart. From his Hymns and 
Poems, published in London, by U. H. Broom, 8, Athol Place (without date, prob- 
ably 1863). Sir E. D. is a millenarian, and writer on prophetic themes. 



OWEET was the hour, O Lord ! to Thee, 
^^ At Sy char's lonely well. 
When a poor outcast heard Thee there 
Thy great salvation tell. 

Thither she came ; but oh ! her heart. 

All filled with earthly care. 
Dreamed not of Thee, nor thought to find 

The Hope of Israel there. 

Lord ! 'twas Thy power, unseen, that drew 

The stray one to that place. 
In solitude to learn of Thee 

The secrets of Thy grace. 

There Jacob's erring daughter found 
Those streams, unknown before, 

The water-brooks of life, that make 
The weary thirst no more. 

And, Lord, to us, as vile as she, 

Thy gracious lips have told 
That mystery of love, revealed 

At Jacob's well of old. 



WHEN WINDS ARE RAGING. 



523 



In spirit, Lord, weVe sat with Thee 

Beside the springing well 
Of life and peace, and heard Thee there 

Its healing virtues tell. 

Dead to the world, we dream no more 

Of earthly pleasures now ; 
Our deep, divine, unfailing spring 

Of grace and glory Thou ! 

No hope of rest in aught beside, 

No beauty, Lord, we see ; 
And, like Samaria's daughter, seek 

And find our all in Thee. 



WHEN WINDS ARE RAGING. 



"The Secret." By Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe; b. at Litchfield, Conn. 
1812 ; residing at Hartford. From her Religious Poems, Boston, 1867, p. 32. 



"TT 7'HEN winds are raging o'er the upper ocean, 

^ ^ And billows wild contend with angry roar, 
'Tis said, far down beneath the wild commotion, 
That peaceful stillness reigneth evermore. 

Far, far beneath, the noise of tempest dieth, 
And silver waves chime ever peacefully ; 

And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flieth. 
Disturbs the sabbath of that deeper sea. 



524 CHRIST OUR PEACE. 

So to the heart that knows Thy love, O Purest I 
There is a temple sacred evermore, 

And all the babble of life's angry voices 
Dies in hushed stillness at its sacred door. 

Far, far away, the roar of passion dieth. 

And loving thoughts rise calm and peacefully ; 

And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flieth. 
Disturbs that deeper rest, O Lord I in Thee. 

O Rest of rests ! O Peace serene, eternal ! 

Thou ever livest, and Thou changest never ; 
And in the secret of Thy presence dwelleth 

Fulness of joy, for ever and for ever. 



ALONE WITH THEE! 



" Alone with Christ." " I will come to you." — John xiv. 18. By Ray Palmer, 
D.D. Written 1867, and first published in his Hyintis of my Holy Hours. New York, 
1867. 



A LONE with Thee ! alone with Thee ! 
O Friend divine ! 
Thou Friend of friends, to me most dear. 
Though all unseen, I feel Thee near; 
And, with the love that knows no fear, 
I call Thee mine. 



ALONE WITH THEE ! 525 



Alone with Thee ! alone with Thee ! 

Now through my breast 
There steals a breath like breath of balm 
That healing brings and holy calm, 
That soothes like chanted song or psalm, 

And makes me blest. 

Alone with Thee ! alone with Thee ! 

Thy grace more sweet 
Than music in the twilight still, 
Than airs that groves of spices fill. 
More fresh than dews on Hermon's hill, 

My soul doth greet. 

Alone with Thee ! alone with Thee ! 

In Thy pure light 
The splendid pomps and shows of time, 
The tempting steeps that pride would climb, 
The peaks where glory rests sublime, 

Pale on my sight. 

Alone with Thee I alone with Thee ! 

My softened heart 
Floats on the flood of love divine, 
Feels all its wishes drowned in Thine, 
Content that every good is mine 

Thou canst impart. 

Alone with Thee ! alone with Thee ! 
I want no more 



526 CHRIST OUR PEACE. 

To make my earthly bliss complete, 
Than oft my Lord unseen to meet ; 
For sight I wait till tread my feet 
Yon glistering shore. 

Alone with Thee ! alone with Thee ! 

There not alone, 
But with all saints, the mighty throng, 
My soul unfettered, pure, and strong, 
Her high communings shall prolong 

Before Thy throne. 



4 



JESUS! THE RAYS DIVINE. 



"My Heavenly Friend. 
July, 1868. Contributed. 



By Mrs. Grace Webster Hinsdale, Brooklyn, 



TESUS ! the rays divine, 
^ Which from Thy presence shine. 
Cast light o'er depths profound. 
Which in Thy word are found. 
And lead me on ! 

The love within Thine eye 
Oft checks the rising sigh ; 
The touch of Thy dear hand 
Answers my heart's demand. 
And comforts me ! 

Yes, Lord, in hours of gloom, 
When shadows fill my room. 



fl 



ABIDE WITH ME ! 

When pain breathes forth its groans. 
And grief its sighs and moans, 
Then Thou art near ! 

Oh ! will it always be 
That Thou wilt comfort me? 
When friends are far away, 
Wilt Thou, my Saviour, stay. 
And soothe my pain? 

Jesus, Thou art my life ! 
No more I dread the strife, — 
The rays of light divine. 
Which from Thy presence shine, 
Fall o'er my heart 1 



527 



ABIDE WITH ME! 



Rev. Henry Francis Lyte; b. 1793; graduated at Trinity College, Dublin; 
d. at Nice, 1847; author of Religious Poems; Tales on the Lord's Prayer; The 
Spirit of tJie Psabns ; &c. This beautiful hymn has passed into several recent Angli- 
can hymn-books; e.g., Hyjnns Ancient and Modern, and The People's Hymttal, 
but only five stanzas. I have borrowed the text from Sir R. Palmer, No. CCCCV. 



A BIDE with me ! fast falls the even-tide : 
■^-^ The darkness deepens ; Lord, with me abide ! 
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee. 
Help of the helpless, O abide with me ! 

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day ; 
Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away ; 
Change and decay in all around I see ; 
O Thou who changest not, abide with me ! 



CZ 



528 



CHRIST OUR PEACE. 



Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word: 
But, as Thou dwell'st with Thy disciples, Lord, 
Familiar, condescending, patient, free, — 
Come, not to sojourn, but abide, with me ! 

Come not in terrors, as the King of kings ; 
But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings ; 
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea ; 
Come, Friend of sinners, and thus 'bide with me ! 

Thou on my head, in early youth, didst smile ; 
And, though rebellious and perverse meanwhile, 
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee : 
On to the close, O Lord, abide with me ! 

I need Thy presence every passing hour ; 
What but Thy grace can foil the Tempter's power? 
Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be? 
Through cloud and sunshine. Lord, abide with me ! 



I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless ; 
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness ; 
Where is Death's sting? where Grave, thy victory? 
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me ! 

Hold, then. Thy cross before my closing eyes ! 
Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies ! 
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows 

flee ; 
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me I 



FAITH IN CHRIST, 



"Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in Me." — 
John xiv. i. 

" The life which I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who 
loved me and gave Himself for me." — Gal. ii. 20. 

" Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith." — Heb. xii. 2. 

" Lord, I believe ; help Thou mine unbelief" — Mark ix. 24. 

A LMIGHTY GOD, who hast revealed Thyself, in Thy Son 
-^ ^ Jesus Christ, as a God of infinite love and wisdom, and 
who dost offer us in Him complete salvation and everlasting bliss : 
work in us, by Thy H0I3' Spirit, a hearty, constant, and abiding 
faith in Thee and in Thy Son, that we may never be ashamed to 
confess Him before men, and, following His holy example, may 
overcome the world, abound in fruits of righteousness, and, hav- 
ing fought the good fight of faith, carry away at last the crown 
of life; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with Thee and 
the Holy Spirit, be honor and glorv, world without end. Amen. 

" Eternal God of earth and air ! 
Unseen, yet seen in all around, 
Remote, but dwelling everj'where, 

Though silent, heard in every sound, — 

If e'er Thine ear in mercy bent 

When wretched mortals cried to Thee ; 
And if, indeed, Thy Son was sent 
To save lost sinners such as me : 

Then hear me now, while, kneeling here, 
I lift to Thee my heart and eye. 
And all my soul asCends in prayer, 

Oh, GIVE ME, GIVE ME FAITH ! I Cry. 

Without some glimmering in my heart, 
I could not raise this fervent prayer : 
But, oh ! a stronger light impart. 
And in Thy mercy fix it there." 

?A 



FAITH IN CHRIST. 



WHEN SINS AND FEARS. 



Miss Anne Steele. 1760. 



TT 7'HEN sins and fears prevailing rise, 
^ ^ And fainting hope almost expires, 
Jesus, to Thee I lift mine eyes, 
To Thee I breathe my soul's desires. 

Art Thou not mine, my dearest Lord? 

And can my hope, my comfort die. 
Fixed on Thy everlasting word. 

That word which built the earth and sky? 

If my immortal Saviour lives. 

Then my immortal life is sure ; 
This word a firm foundation gives, 

Here let me build, and rest secure. 

Here let my faith unshaken dwell ; 

Immovable the promise stands ; 
Not all the powers of earth or hell 

Can e'er dissolve the sacred bands. 



532 FAITH IN CHRIST. 

Here, O my soul ! thy trust repose ; 

Since Jesus is for ever mine, 
Not death itself, that last of foes. 

Shall break a union so divine. 



SEE A POOR SINNER, DEAREST LORD. 



Samuel Medley, a Baptist minister at Liverpool, d. 1799. 



OEE a poor sinner, dearest Lord, 

^^ Whose soul, encouraged by Thy word, 

At mercy's footstool would remain, 

And then would look, "and look again." 

How oft, deceived by self and pride. 
Has my poor heart been turned aside ; 
And, Jonah-like, has fled from Thee, 
Till Thou hast looked again on me ! 

Ah ! bring a wretched wanderer home. 
And to Thy footstool let me come, 
And tell Thee all my grief and pain, 
And wait and look, and look again. 

Do fears and doubts thy soul annoy, 
Do thundering tempests drown thy joy? 
And canst thou not one smile obtain? 
Yet wait and look, and look again. 



AMID LIFE S WILD COMMOTION. 533 

Take courage then, m}^ trembling soul ; . 
One look from Christ will make thee whole : 
Trust thou in Him, 'tis not in vain, 
But wait and look, and look again. 

Look to the Lord, His word, His throne ; 
Look to His grace, and not your own : 
There wait and look, and look again ; 
You shall not wait nor look in vain. 

Ere long that happ\' day will come, 
When I shall reach my blissful home ; 
And when to glory I attain, 
O then I'll look, and look again. 



AMID LIFE'S WILD COMMOTION. 

(Aus irdischem Getummel.') 



From the German of Carl Julius Asschenfeld (b. at Kiel, Holstein, 1792). 
1819. John xiv. 6. (Schaff, No. 102.) Translator unknown. 



A MID life's wild commotion, 
^ ^ Where nought the heart can cheer, 
Who points beyond its ocean 

To heaven's brighter sphere? 
Our feeble footsteps guiding. 

When from the path we s<"ray. 
Who leads to bliss abiding? 

Christ is our onlv Way. 



s 



534 FAITH IN CHRIST. 

When doubts and fears distress us, 

And all around is gloom, 
And shame and fear oppress us. 

Who can our souls illume? 
Heaven's rays are round us gleaming. 

And making all things bright, 
The sun of Truth is beaming 

In glory on our sight. 

Who fills our hearts with gladness 

That none can take away? 
Who shows us, 'midst our sadness, 

The distant realms of day? 
'Mid fears of death assailing. 

Who stills the heart's wild strife ? 
'Tis Christ ! our Friend unfailing. 

The Way, the Truth, the Life. 



I KNOW IN WHOM I PUT MY TRUST. 

(^Ic/i wez'ssj an -wen ick glaube.^ 



Ernst Moritz Arndt. 1819. (Schaff's G. H. B., No. 295.) Translated by 
C. WiNKwoRTH. The author (t i860) was one of the noblest German patriots, and at 
the same time a sincere, childlike Christian. His "Was ist des Deutschen Vaterland," 
is one of the most popular German songs. 



T KNOW in whom I put my trust, 
-^ I know what standeth fast. 
When all things here dissolve like dust, 
Or smoke before the blast : 



I KNOW IN WHOM I PUT MY TRUST. 

I know what still endures, howe'er 

All else may quake and fall, 
When lies the prudent men ensnare, 

And dreams the wise inthrall. 

It is the Dayspring from on high, 

The adamantine Rock, 
Whence never storm can make me fly, 

That fears no earthquake's shock ; 
My Jesus Christ, my sure Defence, 

My Saviour, and my Light, 
That shines within, and scatters thence 

Dark phantoms of the night ; 

Who once was borne, betrayed, and slain. 

At evening to the grave ; 
Whom God awoke, who rose again, 

A Conqueror strong to save : 
Who pardons all my sin, who sends 

His Spirit pure and mild ; 
Whose grace my every step befriends. 

Who ne'er forgets His child ! 

Therefore I know in whom I trust, 

I know what standeth fast. 
When all things formed of earthly dust 

Are whirling in the blast : 
The terrors of the final foe 

Can rob me not of this ; 
And this shall crown me once, I know, 

With never-fading bliss. 



535 



cX 



536 



FAITH IN CHRIST. 



MY FAITH LOOKS UP TO THEE. 



The Rev. Ray Palmer, D.D. ; b. 1808, in Rhode Island; now of New York. 
This is his most popular hymn, written (as the author informs me) 1830, and first 
published 1S33 ; translated into Arabic, and sung in many missionary stations; one of 
the very few American hymns that have been naturalized in England. The text is 
taken fi-om his I/j/mfis and Sacred Pieces, New York, 1865. 



IV /FY faith looks up to Thee, 
■^^ Thou Lamb of Calvary, 

Saviour divine ! 
Now hear me while I pray. 
Take all my guilt away, 
O let me from this day 

Be wholly Thine. 

May Thy rich grace impart 
Strength to my fainting heart. 

My zeal inspire ; 
As Thou hast died for me, 
O may my love to Thee, 
Pure, warm, and changeless be, 

A living fire. 

While life's dark maze I tread, 
And griefs around me spread. 

Be Thou my guide ; 
Bid darkness turn to day. 
Wipe sorrow's tears away. 
Nor let me ever stray 

From Thee aside. 



HALLELUJAH ! I BELIEVE ! 537 

When ends life's transient dream, 
When death's cold, sullen stream, 

Shall o'er me roll ; 
Blest Saviour, then in love 
Fear and distrust remove ; 
O, bear me safe above, — 

A ransomed soul. 



HALLELUJAH! I BELIEVE! 

(^Ich glaube^ Hallelujah.^ 



From the German of Heinrich Mowes, a devoted clergyman near IMagdeburg, 
Prussia; d. 1831, after severe afHictions, which he bore with heroic faith. Translated 
in Hymfts /ro7H the Laitd of Luther, p. 114. 



TTALLELUJAH ! I believe ! 

-*- -*- Now the giddy world stands fast, 

Now my soul has found an anchor 

Till the. night of storm is past. 
All the gloomy mists are rising. 

And the clew is in my hand. 
Through earth's labyrinth to guide me 

To a bright and heavenly land. 

Hallelujah ! I believe ! 

Sorrow's bitterness is o'er. 
And affliction's heavy burden 

Weighs my spirit down no more. 
On the cross the mystic writing 

Now revealed before me lies, 



538 FAITH IN CHRIST. 

And I read the words of comfort, 
"As a father, I chastise." 

Hallelujah ! I believe ! 

Now no longer on my soul 
All the debt of sin is lying : 

One great Friend has paid the whole I 
Ice-bound fields of legal labor 

I have left with all their toil. 
While the fruits of love are growing 

From a new and genial soil. 

Hallelujah ! I believe ! 

Now life's mystery is gone ; 
Gladly through its fleeting shadows. 

To the end I journey on. 
Through the tempest or the sunshine, 

Over flowers or ruins led, 
Still the path is homeward hasting. 

Where all sorrow shall have fled. 

Hallelujah ! I believe ! 

Now, O Love ! I know Th}^ power ; 
Thine no false or fragile fetters. 

Not the rose-wreaths of an hour ! 
Christian bonds of holy union 

Death itself does not destroy ; 
Yes, to live and love for ever. 

Is our heritage of joy ! 



O HOLY SAVIOUR, FRIEND UNSEEN ! 539 



O HOLY SAVIOUR, FRIEND UNSEEN! 



Miss Charlotte Elliott, authoress of "Just as I am," and a large number of 
other hymns. 1836, 



/^ HOLY Saviour, Friend unseen I 
^^ The faint, the weak, on Thee may lean ; 
Help me, throughout life's varying scene, 
By faith to cling to Thee. 

Blest with communion so divine, 
Take what Thou wilt, shall I repine. 
When, as the branches to the vine. 
My soul may cling to Thee? 

Far from her home, fatigued, opprest, 
Here she has found a place of rest ; 
An exile still, yet not unblest. 

While she can cling to Thee. 

Without a murmur I dismiss 
My former dreams of earthly bliss : 
My joy, my recompense, be this, — 
Each hour to cling to Thee. 

What though the world deceitful prove, 
And earthly friends and joys remove ; 
With patient, uncomplaining love, 
Still would I cling to Thee. 



540 



FAITH IN CHRIST. 



Oft when I seem to tread alone 
Some barren waste, with thorns o'ergrown, 
A voice of love, in gentlest tone, 
Whispers, " Still cling to Me." 

Though faith and hope awhile be tried, 
I ask not, need not, aught beside : 
How safe, how calm, how satisfied, 
The souls that cling to Thee ! 

They fear not life's rough storms to brave. 
Since Thou art near, and strong to save ; 
Nor shudder e'en at death's dark wave ; 
Because they cling to Thee ! 

Blest is my lot, whate'er befall : 
What can disturb me, who appall. 
While, as my Strength, my Rock, my All, 
Saviour ! I cling to Thee? 



I ONCE WAS A STRANGER. 



Robert Murray McCheyne; b. at Edinburgh, 1813; pastor at Dundee; 
d. 1843. The following hymn is inscribed, "Jehovah Tsidkenu, 'The Lord our 
Righteousness.' " 



T ONCE was a stranger to grace and to God, 

I knew not my danger, and felt not my load ; 
Though friends spoke in rapture of Christ on the 

tree, 
Jehovah Tsidkenu was nothing to me. 



I ONCE WAS A STRANGER. 54I 

I oft read with pleasure, to soothe or engage, 
Isaiah's wild measure and John's simple page ; 
But, e'en when they pictured the blood-sprinkled 

tree, 
Jehovah Tsidkenu seemed nothing to me. 

Like tears from the daughters of Sion that roll, 
I wept when the wafers went over His soul ; 
Yet thought not that my sins had nailed to the tree 
Jehovah Tsidkenu, — 'twas nothing to me. 

When free grace awoke me by light from on high, 
Then legal fears shook me : I trembled to die ; 
No refuge, no safety, in self could I see ; 
Jehovah Tsidkenu my Saviour must be. 

My terrors all vanished before the sweet name ; 
My guilt}^ fears banished, with boldness I came 
To drink at the fountain, life-giving and free : 
Jehovah Tsidkenu is all things to me. 

Jehovah Tsidkenu ! my treasure and boast ; 

Jehovah Tsidkenu I I ne'er can be lost ; 

In Thee I shall conquer by flood and by field, 

My cable, my anchor, my breast-plate, and shield ! 

Even treading the valley, the shadow of death, 
This watchword shall rally m}'' faltering breath ; 
For, while from life's fever my God sets me free, 
Jehovah Tsidkenu my death-song shall be. 



542 FAITH IN CHRIST. 



WHILE FAITH IS WITH ME. 



Anne Bronte. A prayer for faith. Abridged. I found this poem in a news- 
paper, and cannot vouch for a correct text. 



■\ T 7HILE Faith is with me I am blest ; 

^ ^ It turns my darkest night to day ; 
But while I clasp it to my breast 
I often feel it slide away. 

Then, cold and dark, my spirit sinks, 
To see my light of life depart ; 

And every friend of hell, methinks, 
Enjoys the anguish of my heart. 

What shall I do, if all my love. 
My hopes, my toil, are cast away, 

And if there be no God above 

To hear and bless me when I pray? — 

If this be vain delusion all, 

If death be an eternal sleep, 
And none can hear my secret call, 

Or see the silent tears I weep? 

Oh, help me God ! for Thou alone 
Canst my distracted soul relieve ; 

Forsake it not ; it is Thine own, 

Though weak, yet longing to believe. 



WE WERE NOT WITH THE FAITHFUL. 543 

Oh, drive these cruel doubts away, 

And make me know that Thou art God ! 

A faith that shines by night and day 
Will lighten every earthly load. 

If I believed that Jesus died, 

And, waking, rose to reign above, 

Then, surely, sorrow, sin, and pride. 
Must yield to peace and hope and love. 

And all the blessed words He said 
Will strength and holy joy impart ; 

A shield of safety o'er my head, 
A spring of comfort in my heart. 



WE WERE NOT WITH THE FAITHFUL. 



From the Canterbury Hymnal, 1863. John xx. 29 : " Blessed are they that have 
not seen, and yet have believed." 



TT ZE were not with the faithful few 

' ' Who stood Thy bitter cross around. 
Nor heard Thy prayer for those that slew, 

Nor felt that earthquake rock the ground ; 
We saw no spear-wound pierce Thy side : 
Yet we believe that Thou hast died. 

No angel's message met our ear 

On that first glorious Easter day, — 
"The Lord is risen. He is not here : 



544 



FAITH IN CHRIST. 



Come, see the place where Jesus lay I " 
But we believe that Thou didst quell 
The banded powers of death and hell. 

We saw Thee not return on high ; 

And now, our longing sight to bless, 
No ray of glory from the sky 

Shines down upon our wilderness : 
Yet we believe that Thou art there, 
And seek Thee, Lord, in praise and prayer. 



LIFE'S MYSTERY. 



"The Mystery of Life." A poem of rare beauty. By Mrs. Harriet Beecher 
Stowe; b. 1812; authoress of Uncle Town's Cabin, &c. Yromhtr Religious Poems, 
Boston, 1867, p. 74. 



" Let my heart calm itself in Thee. Let the great sea of my heart, that swelleth 
with waves, calm itself in Thee." — St. Augustine. 

T IFE'S mystery — deep, restless, as the ocean — 
-"-^ Hath surged and wailed for ages to and fro ; 
Earth's generations watch its ceaseless motion. 

As in and out its hollow moanings flow. 
Shivering and yearning by that unknown sea. 
Let my soul calm itself, O Christ, in Thee ! 

Life's sorrows, with inexorable power, 
Sweep desolation o'er this mortal plain ; 

And human loves and hopes fly as the chaff 

Borne by the whirlwind from the ripened grain. 



LIFE S MYSTERY. 



545 



Ah ! when before that blast my hopes all flee, 
Let my soul calm itself, O Christ, in Thee ! 

Between the mysteries of death and life 

Thou standest, loving, guiding, not explaining ; 

We ask, and Thou art silent ; yet we gaze. 

And our charmed hearts forget their drear com- 
plaining. 

No crushing fate, no stony destiny, 

O Lamb that hast been slain, we find in Thee ! 

The many waves of thought, the mighty tides. 
The ground-swell that rolls up from other lands. 

From far-ofl* worlds, from dim, eternal shores. 
Whose echo dashes on life's wave- worn strands, — 

This vague, dark tumult of the inner sea 

Grows calm, grows bright, O risen Lord, in Thee ! 

Thy pierced hand guides the mysterious wheels ; 
Thy thorn-crowned brow now wears the crown 
of power ; 
And, when the dread enigma presseth sore. 

Thy patient voice saith, "Watch with Me one 
hour." 
As sinks the moaning river in the sea 
In silver peace, so sinks my soul in Thee ! 



35 



__^:=D 



54^ 



FAITH IN CHRIST. 



WHEN TIME SEEMS SHORT. 



By the Rev. George W. Bethune, D.D., minister of the Reformed Dutch 
Church, New York. This touching poem was found in his portfoHo, and was written 
on the day before his death, which took place on tlie Lord's Day, April 27, 1862, at 
Florence in Italy, the same day on which he preached his last sermon, on Matt. ix. : 
" Son, be of good cheer : thy sins be forgiven thee." (Dr. van Nest, Memoir of Dr. 
Bethu7ie, 1867, p. 409.) 



^T 7HEN time seems short and death is near, 

' ^ And I am pressed by doubt and fear, 
And sins, an overflowing tide, 
Assail my peace on every side, 
This thought my refuge still shall be, 
I know the Saviour died for me. 

His name is Jesus, and He died, 
For guilty sinners crucified ; 
Content to die that He might win 
Their ransom from the death of sin : 
No sinner worse than I can be. 
Therefore I know He died for me. 



If grace were bought, I could not buy ; 
Tf grace were coined, no wealth have I ; 
By grace alone I draw my breath. 
Held up from everlasting death ; 
Yet, since I know His grace is free, 
I know the Saviour died for me. 



STRONG SON OF GOD. 547 

I read God's holy Word, and find 

Great truths which far transcend my mind 

And little do I know beside 

Of thoughts so high, so deep and wide : 

This is my best theology, 

I know the Saviour died for me. 

My faith is weak, but 'tis Thy gift ; 
Thou canst my helpless soul uplift. 
And say, " Thy bonds of death are riven. 
Thy sins by Me are all forgiven ; 
And thou shalt live from guilt set free. 
For I, Thy Saviour, died for thee." 



STRONG SON OF GOD. 



Alfred Tennyson, poet laureate of England. Introductory to his hi Memo- 
riant, 1849. Abridged. 



OTRONG Son of God, immortal Love, 
^^ Whom we, that have not seen Thy face, 

By faith, and faith alone, embrace. 
Believing where we cannot prove ! 

Thine are these orbs of light and shade ,• 
Thou madest life in man and brute ; 
Thou madest Death ; and, lo ! Thy foot 

Is on the skull which Thou hast made. 



C 



548 FAITH IN CHRIST. 

Thou wilt not leave us in the dust : 

Thou madest man, he knows not why ; 
He thinks he was not made to die ; 

And Thou hast made him : Thou art just. 

Thou seemest human and divine, 

The highest, holiest manhood Thou : 
Our wills are ours, we know not how ; 

Our wills are ours, to make them Thine. 

Our little systems have their day ; 

They have their day, and cease to be ; 

They are but broken lights of Thee, 
And Thou, O Lord I art more than they. 

We have but faith : we cannot know. 
For knowledge is of things we see ; 
And yet we trust it comes from Thee, 

A beam in darkness : let it grow. 

Let knowledge grow from more to more, 
But more of reverence in us dwell ; 
That mind and soul, according well. 

May make one music, as before. 




UNION WITH CHRIST. 



"Abide in Me, and I in you." — John xv. 4. 

"We are members of His body, of His flesh, and of His bones."' — Eph. v. 30. 
" God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in His Son. He that hath the 
Son, hath life."' — i John v. ii, 12. 

TTOLY SAVIOUR, who art the true Vine from which we 
derive our spiritual life and nourishment, and without whom 
we can do nothing but wither and die : be pleased, we beseech 
Thee, so to unite us to Thee, by the power of the Holy Ghost 
and through the bond of a living faith, that, being partakers of 
Thy divine nature, we may bring forth much fruit, and for ever 
abide in Thee, as Thou dost abide in us, until we shall see Thee 
as Thou art, and glorifj' and enjoy Thee, with the Father and 
the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever. Amen. 

Mv blessed Saviour, Lord divine, 
I am Thine owti, and Thou art mine. 
I am Thine own ; for Thou didst give 
Thj' precious life, that I might live. 
And Thou art mine : with all my heart, 
I cleave to Thee, my chosen part. 
How dearly didst Thou purchase me I 
Oh, let me never part from Thee ! 




UNION WITH CHRIST. 



HOW LOVELY SHINES THE STAR! 

( Wi'e schon leuchtet der Morgensiern.') 



From the German of Philipp Nikolai, a Lutheran minister at Unna, Westphalia. 
A favorite German hymn, written in a time of prevaihng pestilence, 1597. It cele- 
brates the union of a believing soul with Christ, her heavenly Bridegroom, according 
to Psalm xlv. and the Song of Solomon. A. Knapp pronounces this the sweetest and 
most excellent of all German hymns, and compares it with the 17th chapter of John. 
It has a rich and blessed history. The tune is one of the noblest German chorals. 
Translated j86o, from the text in Schaff's G. H. B., No. 311, in the metre of the 
original, by the Rev. Dr. H. Harbaugh (d. 1867). 



T TOW lovely shines the Morning Star ! 
-*■ ^ The nations see and hail afar 

The light in Judah shining. 
Thou David's Son of Jacob's race, 
My Bridegroom, and my King of grace, 

For Thee my heart is pining ! 
Lowly, holy. 

Great and glorious, Thou victorious 
Prince of graces. 

Filling all the heavenly places I 

O highest joy by mortals won ! 
Of Mary and of God, the Son ! 



552 UNION WITH CHRIST. 

Thou high-born King of ages, 
Thou art my heart's best, sweetest flower, 
And Thy blest gospel's saving power 
My raptured soul engages. 

Thou mine, I Thine ; 
Sing Hosanna ! Heavenly manna 

Tasting, eating. 
Whilst Thy love in songs repeating. 

Now richly to my waiting heart, 
O Thou, my God, deign to impart 

The grace of love undying. 
In Thy blest Body let me be, 
E'en as the branch is in the tree ; 

Thy life my life supplying. 
Sighing, crying, 

For the savor of Thy favor ; 
Resting never. 

Till I rest in Thee for ever. 

Token of peace from God I see. 
When Thy pure eyes are turned to me 

With heavenly enliving ; 
Jesus, Thy Spirit and Thy Word, 
Thy body and Thy blood, afford 

My soul the best reviving. 
Take me kindly. 

To Thy favor, O my Saviour ! 
Tliou wilt cheer me, 

Since Thy word invites me near Thee. 



U 



HOW LOVELY SHINES THE STAR ! 553 

My Father God, in mercy's plan, 
Before creation's work began. 

Thy love in Christ foresaw me. 
Thy Son has called me to His side ; 
He is my Friend, I am His bride. 

From Him no power can draw me. 
Praise be to Thee ! 

Thou hast given life of heaven ! 
I shall never 

Die, but praise Thy love for ever. 

Wake, wake, your harps to sweetest songs ! 
In praise of Him, to whom belongs 

All praise, join hearts and voices. 
For evermore, O Christ ! in Thee, 
Thee all in all of love to me, 

My grateful heart rejoices. 
With joy, employ. 

Hymns victorious, glad and glorious; 
E'er be given 

Honor to the King of heaven. 

O joy ! to know that Thou, my Friend, 
Art Lord, Beginning without end, 

The First and Last, — Eternal ! 
And Thou at length — O glorious grace ! — 
Wilt take me to that holy place, 

The home of joys supernal. 
Amen, Amen ! 



554 UNION WITH CHRIST. 

Come and meet me, quickly greet me ; 

Draw me ever 
Nearer to Thyself for ever ! 



LORD, THOU ART MINE. 



By the Rev. George Herbert, Rector of Bemerton, d. i6j2. 



T ORD, Thou art mine, and I am Thine, 
■*— ^ If mine I am : and Thine much more, 
Than I or ought, or can be mine. 
Yet to be Thine, doth me restore ; 
So that again I now am mine. 
And with advantage mine the more. 
Since this being mine, brings with it Thine, 
And Thou with me dost Thee restore. 
If I without Thee would be mine, 
I neither should be mine or Thine. 

Lord, I am Thine, and Thou art mine : 
So mine Thou art, that something more 
I may presume Thee mine, then Thine ; 
For Thou didst suffer to restore 
Not Thee, but me, and to be mine : 
And with advantage mine the more. 
Since Thou in death wast none of Thine, 
Yet then as mine didst me restore. 

O be mine still ! still make me Thine ; 

Or rather make no Thine and mine ! 



I LEAVE THEE NOT. 555 



I LEAVE THEE NOT. 

(^Ich lass Dick nickt, Du musst mein Jesus bletben.') 



From the German of Wolfgang Christoph Dessler (b. 1660, d. 1722, author 
of fifty-six hymns), by Dr. James W. Alexander (d. 1859). 



T LEAVE Thee not : Thou art my Jesus ever, 
■^ Though earth rebel, 
And death and hell 
Would, from its steadfast hold, my faith dissever. 
Ah, no ! I ever will 
Cling to my Helper still, 
Hear what my love is taught ; 
Thou art my Jesus ever, 
I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! 

I leave Thee not, O Love I of love the highest, 
Though doubt display 
Its battle-day ; 
I own the power which Thou my Lord appliest : 
Thou didst bear guilt and woe ; 
Shall I to torment go. 
When into judgment brought? 
O Love ! of love the highest, 
I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! 



556 UNION WITH CHRIST. 

I leave Thee not, O Thou who sweetly cheerest ! 
Whose fresh supplies 
Cause strength to rise, 
Just in the hour when faith's decay is nearest. 
If sickness chill the soul. 
And nights of languor roll, 
My heart one hope hath caught : 
O Thou who sweetly cheerest, 
I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! 

I leave Thee not. Thou help in tribulation ; 
By stroke on stroke, 
Though almost broke, 
I hope, when all seems near to desolation. 
Do what Thou wilt with me, 
I still must cling to Thee ; 
Thy grace I have besought ; 
Thou help in tribulation, 
I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! 

I leave Thee not : shall I forsake salvation ? 
No, Jesus, no ! 
Thou shalt not go ; 
Mine still Thou art, to free from condemnation. 
After this fleeting night. 
Thy presence brings me light. 
Whose ray my soul hath sought ; 
Shall I forsake salvation? 
I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! 



I LEAVE THEE NOT. 557 

I leave Thee not : Thy word my way shall brighten ; 
With Thee I go 
Through weal and woe, 
Thy precept wise shall every burden lighten. 
My Lord, on Thee I hang. 
Nor heed the journey's pang, 
Though thorny be my lot : 
Let but Thy word enlighten, 
I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! 

I leave Thee not, even in the lap of pleasure ; 
For, when I stray 
Without Thy ray. 
My richest joy must cease to be a treasure. 
I shudder at the glee, 
When no delight from Thee 
Has heartfelt peace begot : 
Even in the lap of pleasure, 
I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! 

I leave Thee not, my God, my Lord, my Heaven ! 
Nor death shall rend 
From Thee, my Friend, 
Who for my soul Thyself to death hast given. 
For Thou didst die for me. 
And love goes back to Thee ; 
My heart has but one thought : 
My God, my Life, my Heaven, 
I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! 



SS8 



UNION WITH CHRIST. 



MY SAVIOUR! I AM THINE, 



Dr. Philip Doddridge. 
one spirit with Him." 



1755. On I Cor. vi. 17, " Being joined to Christ, and 



IV/rY Saviour ! I am Thine, ^ 
^^-^ By everlasting bands ; 
My name, my heart, I would resign ; 
My soul is in Thy hands. 

To Thee I still would cleave 

With ever-growing zeal ; 
Let millions tempt me Christ to leave, 

They never shall prevail ! 

Thy Spirit shall unite 

My soul to Thee, my Head ; 

Shall form me to Thine image bright, 
And teach Thy paths to tread. 

Death may my soul divide 

From this abode of clay ; 
But love shall keep me near Thy side, 

Through all the gloomy way. 



i 



1 This is the original form in Doddridge's Hymns, edited, from 
the author's MS., by Job Orton. Nearly all the hymn-books, 
however, read, '-'- Dear Saviour, -we are Thine," and substitute the 
plural throughout for the singular. 



JESUS IMMUTABLY THE SAME. 

Since Christ and we are one, 
Why should we doubt or fear? 

If He in heaven has fixed His throne. 
He'll fix His members there. 



559 



JESUS, IMMUTABLY THE SAME. 



By the Rev. Augustus M. Toplady, B.A., Vicar of Broadhembury, Devon. 
1776. "The Vine and the Branches." John xv. i-3. 



TESUS, immutably the same, 
^ Thou true and living vine, 
Around Thy all-supporting stem. 
My feeble arms I twine. 

Quickened by Thee, and kept alive, 

I flourish and bear fruit ; 
My life I from Thy sap derive. 

My vigor from Thy root. 

Grafted in Thee by grace alone, 

In growth I daily rise ; 
And, raised on this foundation-stone. 

My top shall reach the skies. 

I can do nothing without Thee : 
My strength is wholly Thine : 

Withered and barren should I be, 
If severed from the vine. 



560 UNION WITH CHRIST. 

Upon my leaf, when parched with heat, 

Refreshing dew shall drop : 
The plant, which Thy right hand hath set, 

Shall ne'er be rooted up. 

Till Thou hast led me to the place 

Of pure, immortal joy. 
The riches of Thy glorious grace 

Shall all my need supply. 

Who from eternity decreed 

To glorify His own. 
Will not forsake the holy seed, 

Nor take away their crown. 

The righteous shall hold on their way, 

Nor miss the promised land : 
Jesus shall guard them night and day. 

And hide them in His hand. 

Each moment watered by Thy care, 
And fenced with power divine. 

Fruit to eternal life shall bear 
The feeblest branch of Thine. 



JESUS, LEAD US WITH THY POWER. 



S6i 



JESUS, LEAD US WITH THY POWER. 



William Williams, a Calvinistic Methodist, who preached with great effect in 
Wales, and composed several hymns, chiefly in the Welsh language ; d. 1791. 



TESUS, lead us with Thy power 
^ Safe into the promised rest ; 
Hide our souls within Thy bosom ; 

Let us slumber on Thy breast ; 
Feed us with the heavenly manna, 

Bread that angels eat above ; 
Let us drink from the holy fountain 

Draughts of everlasting love. 

Throughout the desert wild conduct us, 

With a glorious pillar bright ; 
In the day a cooling comfort, 

And a cheering fire by night ; 
Be our guide in every peril ; 

Watch us hourly, night and day ; 
Otherwise we'll err and wander 

From Thy Spirit far away. 



In Thy presence we are happy ; 

In Thy presence we're secure ; 
In Thy presence all afflictions 

We will easily endure ; 
36 



562 UNION WITH CHRIST. 

In Thy presence we can conquer, 
We can suffer, we can die ; 

Far from Thee, we faint and languish ; 
Lord, our Saviour, keep us nigh. 



SUN OF MY SOUL. 



From the Evening Hymn of Dr. John Keble (d. 1866), the second in his Christian 
F^ar (first published 1827), commencing: — 

" 'Tis gone, that bright and orbed blaze, 
Fast fading from our wistful gaze." 

Sir R. Palmer (No. CCLIX.), the compilers of Hyvttis Ancient a>id Moderti, 
and other editors, omit the first two stanzas ; and, in this abridged form, the hymn is 
likely to pass into general use, as equal in merit to Bishop Ken's well-known evening- 
hymn. 



OUN of my soul, Thou Saviour dear, 
^ It is not night if Thou be near ; 
Oh ! may no earth-born cloud arise 
To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes ! 

When round Thy wondrous works below 
My searching rapturous glance I throw, 
Tracing out wisdom, power, and love. 
In earth or sky, in stream or grove ; 

Or, by the Hght Thy words disclose. 
Watch time's full river as it flows. 
Scanning Thy gracious providence. 
Where not too deep for mortal sense ; 



SUN OF MY SOUL. 563 

When with dear friends sweet talk I hold, 
And all the flowers of life unfold, — 
Let not my heart within me burn. 
Except in all I Thee discern ! 

When the soft dew^s of kindly sleep 
My wearied eyelids gently steep, 
Be my last thought, how sweet to rest 
For ever on my Saviour's breast ! 

Abide with me from morn till eve. 
For without Thee I cannot live ! 
Abide with me when night is nigh. 
For without Thee I dare not die ! 

Thou Framer of the light and dark, 
Steer through the tempest Thine own ark ! 
Amid the howling wintry sea 
We are in port if we have Thee. 

The rulers of this Christian land, 
'Twixt Thee and us ordained to stand. 
Guide Thou their course, O Lord ! aright; 
Let all do all as in Thy sight ! 

Oh ! by Thine own sad burthen, borne 
So meekly up the hill of scorn. 
Teach Thou Thy priests their daily cross 
To bear as Thine, nor count it loss I 





.0 c 


-^ 


( 




^ 


1 


564 UNION WITH CHRIST. 

If some poor wandering child of Thine 
Have spurned, to-day, the voice divine ; 
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin ; 
Let him no more lie down in sin ! 

Watch by the sick, enrich the poor 
With blessings from Thy boundless store ! 
Be every mourner's sleep to-night 
Like infant's slumbers, pure and light ! 

Come near and bless us when we wake. 
Ere through the world our way we take : 
Till, in the ocean of Thy love. 
We lose ourselves in Heaven above ! 


b 




AH ! JESUS LET ME HEAR THY VOICE. 






Andrew Reed, D.D. ; 1787-1862; Independent minister at London, founder of 
several orphan asylums, and author of popular works. In 1841, he published a Collec- 
tion of hymns, with twenty-seven compositions of his own. 






A H ! Jesus, let me hear Thy voice 
■^^^ Fall gently on mine ear ; 
Th}^ voice alone can soothe my grief, 
And charm away my fear. 








c 


Ah ! Jesus, let me see Thy face 
Beaming with truth and love ; 

I ask no other heaven below. 
No other heaven above. 


> 


c 




^ 






^ 



WHEN IN THE HOUR OF LONELY WOE. 

Ah ! Jesus, let me feel Thy grace ; 

Now hear my earnest cr}^ : 
If Thou art absent, oh I behold 

I droop, I faint, I die ! 

" I come, I come ! " the Saviour cries, 

" To give you full repose ; 
My presence shall revive your joys, 

My frown confound your foes." 

I hear His voice ! I see His face ! 

I feel His present grace ! 
'Tis life, 'tis heaven, 'tis transport, thus 

To rest in His embrace. 



:)^:) 



WHEN IN THE HOUR OF LONELY WOE. 



JosiAH CoNDER, an author and publisher; b. in London, 1739; d. 1855. One of 
the best modem hymn-wTiters. From the rex-ised edition of his Hymns of Praise, 
Prayer^ and Devout Medllation, 1855. 



AT ZHEN in the hour of lonely woe, 
^ ^ I give my sorrow leave to flow. 
And anxious fear and dark distrust 
Weigh down my spirit to the dust ; 

When not e'en friendship's gentle aid 
Can heal the wounds the world has made. 
Oh ! this shall check each rising sigh, 
That Jesus is for ever nigh. 



566 



UNION WITH CHRIST. 



His counsels and upholding care 
My safety and my comfort are ; 
And He shall guide me all my days, 
Till glor}^ crown the work of grace. 

Jesus ! in whom but Thee above 
Can I repose my trust, my love? 
And shall an earthly object be 
Loved in comparison with Thee? 

My flesh is hastening to decay. 

Soon shall the world have passed away ; 

And what can mortal friends avail, 

When heart and strength and life shall fail? 

But oh ! be Thou, my Saviour, nigh. 
And I will triumph while I die ; 
My strength, my portion, is divine, 
And Jesus is for ever mine ! 



IN THY SERVICE WILL I EVER. 

(^Bei Dir, Jesu^ will ich blelben.^ 



"I will abide with thee.' 
Massie, i860. 



From the German of Spitta, 1836. by Richard 



TN Thy service will I ever, 

Jesus, my Redeemer, stay ; 

Nothing me from Thee shall sever, 

Gladh^ would I go Thy way. 



D 



IN THY SERVICE WILL I EVER. 567 

Life in me Thy life produces, 

And gives vigor to my heart, 
As the vine doth Hving juices 

To the purple grape impart. 

Could I be in other places 

Half so happy as with Thee, 
Who so many gifts and graces 

Hast Thyself prepared for me ? 
No place could be half so fitted 

To impart true joy, I ween. 
Since to Thee, O Lord ! committed 

Power in heaven and earth hath been. 

Where shall I find such a Master, 

Who hath done my soul such good, 
And retrieved the great disaster 

Sin first caused, by His own blood? 
Is not He my rightful owner, 

Who for me His own life gave ? 
Were it not a foul dishonor 

Not to love Him to the grave ? 

Yes, Lord Jesus, 1 am ever 

Thine in sorrrow and in joy ; 
Death the union shall not sever, 

Nor eternity destroy. 
I am waiting, yea, am sighing 

For mv summons to depart ; 
He is best prepared for dying 

Who in life is Thine in heart. 



568 UNION WITH CHRIST. 

Let Thy light on me be shining 

When the day is almost gone, 
When the evening is declining, 

And the night is drawing on : 
Bless me, O my Saviour ! laying 

Th}^ hands on my weary head ; 
" Here thy day is ended," saying, 

"Yonder Hve the faithful dead." 

Stay beside me, when the stillness 

And the icy touch of death 
Fills my trembling soul with chillness. 

Like the morning's frosty breath ; 
As my failing eyes grow dimmer. 

Let my spirit grow more bright. 
As I see the first faint glimmer 

Of the everlasting light. 



O HAPPY HOUSE! 

(O selig Hatis, wo man Dick atifgenommen.') 



From the German of C. J. Ph. Spitta (d. 1859), Psalter und Harfe, Leipzig, 
1836, p. 100. A beautiful description of a Christian household, from the personal expe- 
rience of the lovely author, on the words "Salvation is come to this house" (Luke 
xix. 9). Hymns from the Land of Ltither, p. 121, slightly altered, in conformity to 
the original. Another translation by R. Massie : " O happy house ! O home su- 
premely blest ! " 

/^ HAPPY house ! where Thou art loved the best, 
^^ Dear Friend and Saviour of our race. 
Where never comes such welcome, honored Guest, 
Where none can ever fill Thy place ; 



O HAPPY HOU'SE I 509 

Where every heart goes forth to meet Thee, 

Where every ear attends Thy word, 
Where every lip with blessing greets Thee, 

Where all are waiting on their Lord. 

O happy house I where man and wife in heart, 

In faith, and hope are one. 
That neither life nor death can ever part 

The holy union here begun ; 
Where both are sharing one salvation, 

And live before Thee, Lord, always, 
In gladness or in tribulation. 

In happy or in evil days. 

O happ}^ house ! whose little ones are given 

Early to Thee, in faith and prayer, — 
To Thee, their Friend, who from the heights of heaven 

Guards them with more than mother's care. 
O happy house ! where little voices 

Their glad hosannas love to raise ; 
And childhood's lisping tongue rejoices 

To bring new songs of love and praise. 

O happy house I and happy servitude ! 

Where all alike one Master own : 
Where daily duty, in Thy strength pursued, 

Is never hard nor toilsome known ; 
Where each one serves Thee, meek and lowly. 

Whatever Thine appointment be. 
Till common tasks seem great and holy. 

When they are done as unto Thee. 



^ 



570 



UNIOX ^^^TH CHRIST. 



O happy house I where Thou art not forgot 

When joy is flowing full and free : 
O happy house I where every wound is brought — 

Physician. Comforter — to Thee. 
Until at last, earth's day's work ended. 

All meet Thee in that home above. 
From whence Thou earnest, where Thou hast as- 
cended, 

Th}' heaven of glory and of love ! 



CHIEF OF SIXXERS THOUGH I BE. 



William McComb lb. 
1864- 



Bilis^ HL 



poenca. woT^s were 



/^"^HIEF of sinners though I be, 
^^ Jesus shed His blood for me : 

Died, that I miorht live on hicrh : 
Lived, that I might never die. 
As the branch is to the vine, 
I am His and He is mine. 



Oh ! the height of Jesus' love ! 

Higher than the heavens above, 
Deeper than the depths of sea. 
Lasting as eternit)- ; 

Love that found me. wondrous thoucrht ! 
Found me when I soucfht Him not. 



ON THEE, O JESUS ! 

Jesus only can impart 
Balm to heal the smitten heart ; 
Peace that flows from sin forgiven, 
Joy that lifts the soul to heaven ; 
Faith and hope to walk with God, 
In the way that Enoch trod. 

Chief of sinners though I be, 
Christ is all in all to me : 
All my wants to Him are known. 
All my sorrows are His own : 
Safe with Him from earthly strife. 
He sustains the hidden life. 

O my Saviour, help afford, 
By Thy Spirit and Thy Word ! 
When my wayward heart would stray, 
Keep me in the narrow^ way ; 
Grace in time of need supply. 
While I live, and when I die. 



571 



ON THEE, O JESUS! 



Dr. HoRATius BoNAR. From his Hymiis of Faith and Hoj>e, Third Series, 
Fellowship with Christ." 



/^N Thee, O Jesus ! strongly leaning, 
^^ I calmly onward go ; 
No cloud, no coldness, intervening. 
To damp love's blessed glow. 



572 UNION WITH CHRIST. 

In Thee for ever, Lord, abiding, 

I feel that all is well ; 
Within Thy love for ever hiding, 

Who can my gladness tell? 

True Light of light, for ever shining, 

I hail Thy happy ray ; 
Bright Sun of suns, still undeclining, 

'Tis Thou who mak'st my day ! 
Without Thee life and time are sadness, 

No fragrance breathes around ; 
But with Thee even grief is gladness, 

My heart its home hath found. 

In Thee my soul is sweetly resting. 

My hand takes hold of Thine ; 
My hope is ever upward hasting, — 

And Thou, and Thou, art mine ! 
My refuge from each storm that rages, 

From wind and wave and war. 
My home throughout eternal ages, 

Above yon sparkling star ! 

My hope, my joy, my peace, my glory, 

My first, my last, my all. 
Great theme of the unending story 

In yon celestial hall I 
Great theme above of song and wonder 

In ages yet to come. 
True theme below while here we wander, 

Alas, how cold and dumb ! 



LORD ! LET MY HEART. 



573 



LORD! LET MY HEART. 



Lady Powerscourt. From Savile's Lyra Sacra, third ed., Lend. 1865. 



T ORD ! let my heart still turn to Thee, 

In all my hours of waking thought, 
Nor let this heart e'er wish to flee, 
.Or think, or feel, where Thou art not. 

In every hour of pain and woe. 

When nought on earth this heart can cheer, 
When sighs will burst and tears will flow, 

Lord, hush the sigh and chase the tear. 

In every dream of earthly bliss. 
Do Thou, dear Jesus, present be ; 

Nor let a thought of happiness 

On earth intrude, apart from Thee ! 

To my last lingering thought at night, 
Do Thou, Lord Jesus, still be near; 

And ere the dawn of opening light 
In still small accents wake mine ear. 

Whene'er I read Thy sacred word. 
Bright on the page in glory shine ; 

And let me say, " This precious Lord 
In all His full salvation's mine." 



574 



UNION WITH CHRIST. 



And when before the throne I kneel, 

Hear from that throne of grace my prayer, 

And let each hope of heaven I feel 

Burn with the thought to meet Thee there. 

Thus teach me, Lord, to look to Thee 
In every hour of waking thought ; 

Nor let me ever wish to be. 

Or think, or feel, where Thou art not. 



THAT MYSTIC WORD OF THINE. 



The soul's answer to the words of Christ : " Abide in Me, and I in you " (John 
XV. 4). By Mrs. Hakriet Beecher Stowe. From her Religiozis Poems, p. 30, 
Boston, 1867. 



^npHAT mystic word of Thine, O sovereign Lord, 

"■- Is all too pure, too high, too deep for me ; 
Weary of striving, and with longing faint, 
I breathe it back again m prayer to Thee. 

Abide in me, I pray, and I in Thee ! 

From this good hour, O, leave me nevermore ! 
Then shall the discord cease, the wound be healed, 

The life-long bleeding of the soul be o'er. 

Abide in me ; o'ershadow by Thy love 

Each half-formed purpose and dark thought of sin ; 
Qiiench, e'er it rise, each selfish, low desire, 

And keep my soul as Thine, calm and divine. 



U 



fl 



STILL, STILL WITH THEE. 



575 



As some rare perfume in a vase of clay 
Pervades it with a fragrance not its own, 

So, when Thou dwellest in a mortal soul, 

All heaven's own sweetness seems around it thrown .^ 

Abide in me : there have been moments blest, 
When I have heard Thy voice and felt Thy power ; 

Then evil lost its grasp ; and passion, hushed, 
Owned the divine enchantment of the hour. 

These were but seasons, beautiful and rare ; 

Abide in me, and they shall ever be ; 
Fulfil at once Thy precept and my prayer. 

Come, and abide in me, and I in Thee. 



STILL, STILL WITH THEE. 



" When I awake, I am still with Thee. 
Religious Poems, p. 88, Boston, 1867. 



By Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe. 



OTILL, still with Thee, when purple morning 
^^ breaketh, 

When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee ; 



1 In a popular collection, I find, besides several unnecessary 
changes, the following additional (fifth) stanza, which is not 
given in the edition of Mrs. Stowe's Poems, and yet seems not 
unworthy of her pen : — 

The soul alone, like a neglected harp. 

Grows out of tune, and needs that Hand divine : 

Dwell Thou within it, tune and touch the chords. 
Till every note and string shall answer Thine. 



576 



UNION WITH CHRIST. 



Fairer than morning, lovelier than the daylight, 
Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with Thee ! 

Alone with Thee, amid the mystic shadows, 
The solemn hush of nature newly born ; 

Alone with Thee in breathless adoration. 
In the calm dew and freshness of the morn. 

As in the dawning o'er the waveless ocean 
The image of the morning star doth rest. 

So in this stillness Thou beholdest only 
Thine image in the waters of my breast. 

Still, still with Thee ! as to each new-born morning 
A fresh and solemn splendor still is given. 

So doth this blessed consciousness, awaking. 

Breathe, each day, nearness unto Thee and heaven. 

When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber, 
Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer ; 

Sweet the repose beneath the wings o'ershading. 
But sweeter still to wake, and find Thee there. 



So shall it be at last, in that bright morning 
When the soul waketh and life's shadows flee ; 

O, in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning, 
Shall rise the glorious thought, I am with Thee ! 





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5 c 




d 




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c 


JESUS ! I LIVE TO THEE. 577 

JESUS! I LIVE TO THEE. 


9 




By Dr. Henry Harbaugh, Professor of Theology, at Mercersburg, Pa. ; b. 181S; 
d. Dec. 27, 1867, in the midst of his strength and usefulness. His last intelligible 
words, on waking from a slumber, were : " You have called me back from the golden 
gates, from the verge of my heavenly home." Rom. xiv. 8 : " Whether we live, we 
live unto the Lord ; and whether we die, we die unto the Lord. Whether we live, 
tlierefore, or die, we are the Lord's." 






TESUS ! I live to Thee, 
^ The loveliest and best ! 










My life in Thee, Thy life in me, 
In Thy blest love I rest. 






Jesus ! I die to Thee, 






Whenever death shall come ; 






To die in Thee is life to me. 






In my eternal home. 






Whether to live or die. 






I know not which is best ; 






To live in Thee is bliss to me, 






To die is endless rest. 


' 




Living or dying, Lord, 
I ask but to be Thine : 






My life in Thee, Thy life in me, 
Makes heaven for ever mine. 






37 




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y-o <rj 


U 



57^ UNION WITH CHRIST. 



O BLESSED LORD! 



"Far off, yet near." By A. D. F. Randolph; b. 1820; publisher and bookseller 
in New York ; written 1864, published 1868. 



r^ BLESSED Lord I 

^-^ Once more, as at the opening of the day, 

I read Thy word ; 
And now, in all I read, I hear Thee say, 
"To those who love, I will be ever near ; " 

And yet, while this I hear, 
To me, O Lord, Thou seemest far away ! 

Thou Sovereign One, 
Greater than mightiest kings, can it be fear 

Or blinding sun 
Made by Th}^ glory, so if Thou art here 
I cannot see Thee ; yet this Word declares 

That whoso loves and bears 
Thy Holy Name, shall have Thee ever near ! 

I bear Thy name : 
That love, dear Lord, have I not long confessed? 

Thy love's the same. 
As when, like John, I leaned upon Thy breast. 
And knew I loved; oh, which of us has changed? 

Am I from Thee estranged ? 
O Lord, Thou changest not : I know the rest ! 



m 



O BLESSED LORD ! 579 

My doubting heart 
Trembles with its own weakness, and afraid 

I dwell apart 
From Thee, on whom alone my hope is stayed : 
I would, and yet I do not know Thy will 

And perfect love ; am still 
Trusting myself, to be by self betrayed. 

O blessed Lord ! 
Far off, yet near, on me new grace bestow 

As on Thy Word 
I go to meet Thee ; even now I know 
Thou nearer art than when my quest began ; 

One cry, and Thy feet ran 
To meet me ; Lord, I will not let Thee go ! 




THE HOLY COMMUNION. 



" I AM the living Bread which came down from heaven : if any man eat of this 
Bread he shall live for ever." — John vI. 51. 

"The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin." — i John i. 7. 

"Take, eat : this is My body." — Matt. xxvi. 26. 

"The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of 
Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ? " 
— I CoR. X. 16. 

OLORD JESUS CHRIST, who didst ordain, in the blessed 
sacrament, a perpetual memorial of Thy bitter passion and 
atoning death, and dost invite us to Thj table, that our souls 
may be nourished by Thee, the Bread of eternal life : grant unto 
us, we beseech Thee, such faith in Thy promise, and such discern- 
ment of Thy holy mysteries, that we may receive the full fruition 
of Thy redeeming love, and attain at last, with all saints, to the 
marriage supper of the Lamb, in the kingdom of glory above, 
where Thou livest and reignest, with the Father and the Holy 
Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen. 



'' Pangue, lingua, gloriosi 
Corporis mj'sterium, 
Sanguinisque pretiosi, 

Quem in mundi pretium 
Fructus ventris generosi. 
Rex effudit gentium." 

Thomas Aquinas. 

" O QUAM sanctus panis iste ! 
Tu solus es, Jesu Christe, 
Caro, cibus, sacramentum. 
Quo non maius est inventum. 

Salutare medicamen, 
Peccatorum relevamen, 
Pasce nos, a malis leva. 
Due nos, ubi est lux Tua." 
From JoANNis Hussi Carmen de Ccefta Sacra (Daniel, II. 370). 



THE HOLY COMMUNION. 



O LAMB OF GOD WHO, BLEEDING. 

(^O Lamm Gottes unschuldig.') 



A popular German communion-h\'mn of Nikolaus Decius, written 1523; based 
on John i. 29, and upon the old Latin mass-song, "Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata 
raundi, miserere nobis" (Schaff's G. H. B., No. 107). Translated by Prof. Thomas 
C. Porter, Easton, Pa. 



r~\ LAMB of God who, bleeding, 
^■^^ Upon the cross didst languish, 
Nor scorn nor malice heeding, 

So patient in Thine anguish. 
On Thee our guilt was lying ; 
Thou savedst us by dying : 

Have mercy on us, Lord Jesus ! ^ 



O Lamin Gottes unschuldig, 

Am Stamm des Kreuzes geschlachtet, 
Allzeit funden geduldig, 

Wiewohl Du warst verachtet, 
Air Siind' hast Du getragen ; 
Sonst mvissten wir verzagen : 

Erbarm' Dich unser, o Jesu ! " 



S84 



THE HOLY COMMUNION. 



SING, MY TONGUE. 

(^Pange, lingua, gloriosi corporis mysterium.^ 



St. Thomas Aquinas, the greatest divine of the Middle Ages, called the " Angelic 
Doctor;" d. 1274, 48 years old, on a journey from Paris to Lyons. Daniel, I. 251; 
Wackernagel, I. 145. This is the shorter of his two famous eucharistic hymns 
(the other being " Lauda, Sion, Salvatorem," in Daniel, II. 97), which are used in 
the Roman-Catholic Church on the feast of Corpus Christi and in solemn masses. 
Although it strongly savors of transubstantiation (ver. 4), it could not be omitted in this 
Collection. It " contests the second place, among the hymns of the Western Church, 
with the Vexilla Regis, the Stahat Mater, the Jestc dulcis Memoria, and a few others, 
leaving the Dies Irce in its unapproachable glory " (Neale). The translation is based 
upon that of Dr. Neale {Mediceval Hymns, p. 178), which commences: "Of the 
glorious Body telling," and which, with various modifications, has passed into some 
recent Anglican hymn-books, as the Hymns Ancient and Modern, No. 203, and 
The People'^ s Hymnal, No. i66. There are other translations, by Dr. Pusev, Wack- 
ERBARTH, Caswall, Erastus C. BENEDICT, &c. The " Lauda, Sion, Salvatorem " 
(which we must omit, on account of its length) has also been repeatedly rendered into 
German and English, more recently by E. C Benedict (in the Hymn of Hildebert, 
&c., New York, i868, p. 93). Neale (I.e. p. 176) gives aversion of a third eucha- 
ristic hymn of St. Thomas: "Adoro Te devote, latens Deltas," which was never in 
public use. I quote from it the following verse : — 

" O most sweet memorial of His death and woe, 
Living Bread, which givest life to man below. 
Let my spirit ever eat of Thee, and live. 
And the blest fruition of Thy sweetness give 1 " 



OING, my tongue, the mystery telling, 
^^ Of the glorious Body sing, 
And the Blood, all price excelling, 

Which the world's eternal King, 
In a noble womb once dwelling. 

Shed for this world's ransoming. 

Of a Virgin condescending 
To be born for us below. 



SING, MY TONGUE. 585 

He, with men in converse blending, 

Dwelt the seed of truth to sow ; 
Then He closed, with wondrous ending. 

His appointed course of woe. 

At the last Great Supper lying. 

Circled by His chosen band, 
Jesus, with the law complying, 

Meekl}' finished its command ; 
Then, immortal food supplying, 

Gave Himself with His own hand. 

God incarnate, bread He maketh 

By His word His flesh to be ; 
Who by faith that cup partaketh. 

Tastes the Blood of Calvary : 
Though the carnal sense forsaketh, 

Faith beholds the mysterv.^ 



1 This stanza must, of course, be taken with considerable al- 
lowance by the Protestant reader. I have taken some libert}', 
and inserted "by faith," which is not in the original. It has 
severely tried the skill of translators. See the interesting note 
in Neale, pp. 180, 181. I append the Latin, with the two closest 
versions : — 

" Verbum caro, panem verum verbo camem efficlt, 
Fitque sanguis Christi merum ; etsi sensus deficit, 
Ad firman dum cor sincerum sola fides sufl&cit." 

Caswall : Neale : 

" Word made Flesh, the bread of nature " Word made Flesh, by Word He maketh 

By His word to Flesh He turns ; Very Bread His Flesh to be ; 

Wine into His Blood He changes : Man in wine Christ's Blood partaketh ; 

What though sense no change discerns ? And, if senses fail to see. 

Only be the heart in earnest, Faith alone the true heart waketh 

Faith her lesson quickly learns " To behold the Mysterj'." 



586 



THE HOLY COMMUNION. 



Therefore at the altar bending, 
We this sacrament revere, 

Ancient shadows have their ending, 
Where the substance doth appear ; 

Faith, her aid to vision lending, 
Tells that Christ unseen is here. 

Glory let us give, and blessing 
To the Father and the Son ; 

Honor, might, and praise addressing, 
While eternal ages run ; 

Holy Ghost, from both progressing, 
Equal praise to Thee be done ! 



In " Lauda, Sion, Salvatorem," Thomas Aquinas expresses, 
with equal clearness, his belief in the mystery of the real pres- 
ence, which Protestants can adopt only in a spiritual (though 
none the less real) sense, and divested of all materialistic concep- 
tions (John vi. 63) : — 



'Dogma datur Christianis, 
Quod in carnem transit panis, 

Et vinum in sanguinem. 
Quod non capis, quod non vides, 
Animosa firmat fides, 

Prseter rerum ordinem. 

A sumente non concisus, 
Non confractus, non divisus, 

Integer accipitur. 
Sumit unus, sumunt mille, 
Quantum isti, tantum ille, 

Nee sumptus consumitur." 



' Wondrous truth to Christians given, 
Bread becomes His Flesh from heaven, 

To His Blood is turned the Wine. 
Sight hath failed, nor thought conceiveth ; 
But a dauntless faith believeth, 

Resting on a power Divine. 

Whoso of this Food partaketh 
Rendeth not the Lord, nor breaketh: 

Christ is whole to all that taste. 
Thousands are, as one, receivers ; 
One, as thousands of believers, 

Eats of Him who cannot waste." 



SING, AND THE MYSTERY DECLARE. 587 



SING, AND THE MYSTERY DECLARE. 

(JPajige, lifigua, gloriosi^ 



Another version, or transfusion rather, of the preceding hymn of Thomas Aqui- 
nas, kindly prepared for this Collection by the Rev. Dr. Ray Palmer, New York, 
Aug. 19, 1868. 



OING, and the mystery declare ; 
^^ Sing of the glorious Body slain ; 
And of the Blood beyond compare, — 

Price of the world, — that not in vain 
He, sole of men pure born, hath shed; 
He, of the nations King and Head. 

To us was born the Christ of God ; 

A Virgin's Son to us was given ; 
And, while the earth His footsteps trod. 

Abroad He sowed the seed of heaven ; 
Then, when drew near His destined hour, 
Ordained this rite of wondrous power. 

'Twas on the last night of the feast, 
Reclining with His faithful few. 

Of ancient laws, e'en to the least. 
Each word obeyed with service true ; 

Himself He gave with His own hand 

The Bread of Life to all the band. 



£U 



588 



THE HOLY COMMUNION. 



The incarnate Word, in broken bread, 
His body broken there did show ; 

And in the wine His blood, once shed 
From guilt to cleanse, to save from woe ; 

Where falters sense, faith trusts His word, 

And souls sincere receive the Lord.^ 

Before this noblest sacrifice, 

In reverent love we lowly bow ; 
No more the appointed victim dies. 

But shadow yields to substance now ; 
While faith, that want of sight supplies. 
Lifts to the Cross her trustful eyes ! 

Now to the Father and the Son, 
And Spirit sent by each, shall be 

All worship, honor, homage done. 
By all that live, eternally ; 

Unto the Three in One be given 

An equal praise, in earth and heaven. 

I Here the doctrinal difficulty of the original is happily over- 
come : the form is changed, but the substance (i.e. the spiritual 
real presence, and the spiritual real fruition of the Lord by faith) 
remains, and should never be exchanged for the jejune and ra- 
tionalistic notion of a purely figurative presence of Christ in the 
ordinances of His own appointment. He is the Head of the 
Church, "which is His body, the fulness of Him that filleth all 
in all," and has solemnly pledged His presence to the end of the 
world. 



II 



O BREAD OF LIFE FROM HEAVEN ! 589 



O BREAD OF LIFE FROM HEAVEN! 



{O esca viatorum, O ^anis a?igeloru7n, O inajina ccelitum.^ 



From an anonymous mediseval hymn, De Sanctisshno Sacramento, in Daniel, 
II. 369. A less literal version, by Dr. Ray Palmer, " O Bread to pilgrims given " 
(in the Andover Sabbath Hyimi-Book, No. 1051, where the original is, without good 
reason, ascribed to Thomas Aquinas). Another in Shipley's Lyra Eucharistica 
(p. 174), " O Food that weary pilgrims love ! " 



r\ BREAD of Life from heaven 
^-^ To saints and angels given, 

O Manna from above ! 
The souls that hunger feed Thou, 
The hearts that seek Thee lead Thou, 

With Thy sweet, tender love. 

O Fount of grace redeeming, 
O River ever streaming 

From Jesu's holy side ! 
Come Thou, Thyself bestowing 
On thirsting souls, and flowing 

Till all are satisfied. 

Jesu, this feast receiving. 
Thy word of truth believing. 
We Thee unseen adore ; 



B 



cfl 



590 THE HOLY COMMUNION. 

Grant, when the veil is rended, 

That we, to heaven ascended, 

May see Thee evermore.^ 



DECK THYSELF, MY SOUL. 

(^Sckmucke dick, o liebe Seele.^ 



JoHANN Frank (a lawyer; d., at Guben, Prussia, 1677). 1650. One of the rich- 
est German communion-hymns. Schaff, G. H. B., No. 262. ' Translated by C. Wink- 
worth {Lyra Germ., II. 133). 



"p\ECK thyself, my soul, with gladness ; 
'^^^ Leave the gloomy haunts of sadness, 
Come into the daylight's splendor ; 
There with joy thy praises render 
Unto Him, whose boundless grace 
Grants thee at His feast a place ; 
He whom all the heavens obey 
Deigns to dwell in thee to-day. 

Hasten as a bride to meet Him, 
And with loving reverence greet Him, 
Who with words of life immortal 
Now is knocking at thy portal ; 



1 " O Jesu, tuum vultum, 
Quern colimus occultum 

Sub panis specie, 
Fac, ut, remoto velo, 
Aperta nos in coelo 

Cernamus acie." 



DECK THYSELF, MY SOUL. 

Haste to make for Him a way, 
Cast thee at His feet, and say : 
Since, O Lord ! Thou com'st to me, 
Never will I tm'n from Thee. 

Ah, how hungers all my spirit. 
For the love I do not merit ! 
Ah, how oft with sighs fast thronging 
For this food have I been longing ! 
How have thirsted in the strife 
For this draught, O Prince of Life I 
Wished, O Friend of man ! to be 
Ever one with God through Thee ! 

Here I sink before Thee, lowly. 
Filled with joy most deep and holy. 
As with trembling awe and wonder 
On Thy might}^ works I ponder ; 
On this banquet's m3^stery. 
On the depths we cannot see ; 
Far beyond all mortal sight 
Lie the secrets of Thy might. 

Sun, who all my life dost brighten. 
Light, who dost my soul enlighten, 
Joy, the sweetest man e'er knoweth, 
Fount, whence all my being floweth ! 
Here I fall before Thy feet : 
Grant me worthily to eat 
Of this blessed heavenly food. 
To Thy praise and to my good. 



591 



D 



592 THE HOLY COMMUNION. 

Jesus, Bread of Life from Heaven, 
Never be Thou vainly given, 
Nor I to my hurt invited ; 
Be Thy love with love requited ; 
Let me learn its depths indeed, 
While on Thee my soul doth feed ; 
Let me here, so richly blest. 
Be hereafter, too. Thy guest. 



SUFFERING SAVIOUR, LAMB OF GOD, 



Anonymous. From an old hymn-book. 



OUFFERING Saviour, Lamb of God, 
^^ How hast Thou been used ! 
With the Almighty's wrathful rod 
Soul and body bruised ! 

We, for whom Thou once wast slain. 
We, whose sins did pierce Thee, 

Now commemorate Thy pain. 
And implore Thy mercy. 

We would with Thee sympathize 

In Thy bitter passion ; 
With soft hearts and weeping eyes 

See Thy great salvation. 



SUFFERING SAVIOUR, LAMB OF GOD. 

Thine's an everlasting love : 
We have dearly tried Thee. 

Whom have we in heaven above, 
Whom on earth, beside Thee? 

What can helpless sinners do, 
When temptations seize us? 

Nought have we to look unto 
But the blood of Jesus. 

Pardon all our baseness, Lord, 

All our weakness pity ; 
Guide us safely by Thy word 

To the heavenly city. 

Oh ! sustain us on the road 
Through this desert dreary ; 

Feed us with Thy flesh and blood, 
When we're faint and weary. 

Bid us call to mind Thy cross 
Our hard hearts to soften ; 

Often, Saviour, feed us thus ; 
For we need it often. 



593 



38 



594 



THE HOLY COMMUNION. 



'TWAS ON THAT DARK NIGHT. 



By Dr. Isaac Watts; b. at Southampton, 1674; d. in London, 1748. i Cor. 
xi. 23. The hymn has seven verses, but verses four and five are usually omitted. 



'^pWAS on that dark, that doleful night, 
-*" When powers of earth and hell arose 
Against the Son of God's delight. 

And friends betrayed Him to His foes : 

Before the mournful scene began, 

He took the bread, and blessed and brake ; 
What love through all His actions ran ! 

What wondrous words of grace He spake ! 

"This is My Body, broke for sin ; 

Receive and eat the living food." 
Then took the cup and blessed the wine : 
" This the new covenant in My Blood. 

"Do this," He cried, " till time shall end, 
In memory of your dying Friend ; 

Meet at My Table, and record 
The love of your departed Lord." 

Jesus ! Thy feast we celebrate ; 

We show Thy death, we sing Thy name, 
Till Thou return, and we shall eat 

The marriage Supper of the Lamb. 



BODY OF JESUS, O SWEET FOOD 



595 



IN MEMORY OF THE SAVIOUR'S LOVE. 



Anonymous [1843]. From Sir R. Palmer's Book 0/ Praise, No. CCXCIII. 



TN memory of the Saviour's love, 
■^ We keep the sacred feast, 
Where every humble contrite heart 
Is made a welcome guest. 

By faith we take the Bread of Life, 
With which our souls are fed ; 

The Cup, in token of His Blood 
That was for sinners shed. 

Under His banner thus we sing • 
The wonders of His love. 

And thus anticipate by faith 
The heavenl}' feast above. 



BODY OF JESUS, O SWEET FOOD! 



By A. C. CoxE, D.D. ; b. 1818; bishop of the Protestant Episcopal diocese of 
Western New York. This piece was written in 185S, at St. James's College, Maryland 
(which was broken up, by the civil war, in 1864), and printed on a slip of paper, \vith 
the text, " Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for thee " (i Kings xix. 7). 



"D ODY of Jesus, O sweet food ! 
-'-^ Blood of my Saviour, precious Blood ! 
On these Thy gifts, Eternal Priest, 
Grant Thou my soul in faith to feast. 





5 C-.-. 


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596 THE HOLY COMMUNION. 

Weary and faint I thirst and pine 
For Thee my Bread, for Thee my Wine, 
Till strengthened, as Elijah trod, 
I journey to the mount of God. 

There clad in white, with crown and palm, 
At the great Supper of the Lamb, 
Be mine with all Thy saints to rest, 
Like him that leaned upon Thy breast. 

Saviour, till then, I fain would know 
That feast above by this below. 
This Bread of Life, this wondrous food, 
Thy Body and Thy precious Blood. 

GOD, UNSEEN YET EVER NEAR! 


U 




From Hymns A ncient and Modern, London, No. 207. 






/^ GOD, unseen yet ever near, 
^^ Thy presence may we feel ! 
And thus, inspired with holy fear. 
Before Thine altar kneel. 








c 


Here may Thy faithful people know 

The blessings of Thy love. 
The streams that through the desert flow, 

The manna from above. 


» 






—5 




" — -D c — 


M 




JESU, TO THY TABLE LED. 

We come, obedient to Thy word, 
To feast on heavenly food ; 

Our meat, the Body of the Lord, 
Our drink, His precious Blood. 

Thus may we all Thy words obey. 
For we, O God ! are Thine ; 

And go rejoicing on our way, 
Renewed with strength divine. 

To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
The God whom we adore. 

Be glory as it was, is now, 
And shall be evermore. 



a 



597 



JESU, TO THY TABLE LED. 



The Rev. Robert Hall Baynes ; b. at Wellington, Somerset, England, 1831 ; 
studied at Oxford ; editor of Lyra A iiglicana, and the Canterbury Hymnal. 1863. 



TESU, to Thy Table led. 

Now let every heart be fed 
With the true and living Bread. 



While in penitence we kneel, 
Thy sweet presence let us feel. 
All Thy wondrous love reveal ! 



T 



598 THE HOLY COMMUNION. 

While on Thy dear cross we gaze, 
Mourning o'er our sinful ways, 
Turn our sadness into praise ! 

When we taste the mystic wine, 
Of Thine outpoured blood the sign, 
Fill our hearts with love divine ! 

Draw us to Th}^ wounded side. 
Whence there flowed the healing tide ; 
There our sins and sorrows hide ! 

From the bonds of sin release, 
Cold and wavering faith increase, 
Lamb of God, grant us Thy peace ! 

Lead us by Thy pierced hand. 
Till around Thy throne we stand. 
In the bright and better land. 



BY CHRIST REDEEMED. 



I Cor. xi. 26: "As often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the 
Lord's death till He come." Anonymous, from Shipley's Lyra Eucharistica, Lond. 
1863, p. 249. 



TI) Y Christ redeemed, in Christ restored, 
-^ We keep the memory adored. 
And show the death of our dear Lord, 
Until He come. 



BY CHRIST REDEEMED. 

His Body, broken in our stead, 
Is here in this Memorial Bread ; 
And so our feeble love is fed. 
Until He come. 

His fearful drops of agony, 
His life-blood shed for us we see : 
The wine shall tell the mystery, 
Until He come. 

And thus that dark betrayal-night 
With the last Advent we unite — 
The shame, the glory — by this rite. 
Until He come. 

Until the trump of God be heard. 
Until the ancient graves be stirred. 
And with the great, commanding word, 
The Lord shall come. 



599 



O blessed hope ! with this elate. 
Let not our hearts be desolate, 
But strong in faith, in patience wait. 
Until He come. 



6oo 



THE HOLY COMMUNION. 



LO, THE FEAST IS SPREAD TO-DAY! 



Dr. Henry AlforDj Dean of Canterbury. From the latest edition of his Poetical 
Works, 1865. 

T O, the feast is spread to-day ! 

"*-^ Jesus summons, come away ! 

From the vanity of life, 

From the sounds of mirth and strife, 

To the feast by Jesus given, 

Come and taste the Bread of Heaven. 

Why, with proud excuse and vain. 
Spurn His mercy once again? 
From amidst Hfe's social ties, 
From the farm and merchandise, 
Come, for all is now prepared; 
Freely given, be freely shared. 

Blessed are the lips that taste 
Our Redeemer's marriage feast ; 
Blessed who on Him shall feed, 
Bread of Life, and drink indeed. 
Blessed, for their thirst is o'er. 
They shall never hunger more. 

Make, then, once again your choice. 
Hear to-day His calling voice ; 
Servants, do your Master's will ; 
Bidden guests. His table fill ; 
Come, before His wrath shall swear : 
Ye shall never enter there. 




LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. 



" We love Him, because He first loved us." — i John iv. 19. 

"The love of Christ constraineth us. . . . He died for all, that they which live 
should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto Him which died for them, and 
rose again." — 2 Cor. v. 14, 15. 

O BLESSED SAVIOUR, whose love to sinners passeth the 
comprehension of men and of angels, and will be the theme 
of grateful praise throughout the ages of eternity : impress upon 
us, we beseech Thee, such a deep and abiding sense of our in- 
debtedness for Th}' great salvation, that we may wholly live to 
Thy glory, and serve Thee in holiness and righteousness all our 
days, until we join in the songs of Thy redeemed army in 
heaven where, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, Thou art 
worshipped and glorified world without end. Amen. 

" I CANNOT love Thee as I would, 
Yet pardon me, O Highest Good ! 
My life, and all I call mine own, 
I lay before Thy mercy-throne : 
And if a thousand lives were mine, 
O sweetest Lord ! they should be Thine ; 
And scanty would the offering be, 
So richly hast Thou loved me." 

Front the Ge7 7nan. 




n 



XAVIER'S HYMN, 



O Deus, ego amo Te, 
Nee amo Te, ut salves me, 
Aiit quia non amantes Te 
,^terno pmiis igne. 



Innumeros dolores, 
Sudores, et angores, 
Ac mortem, et haec propter me, 
Ac pro me peccatore. 



Tu, Tu, mi Jesu, totum me 
Amplexus es in cruce ; 
Tulisti clavos, lanceam, 
Multamque ignominiam, 



Cur igitur non amem Te, 
O Jesu amantissime ! 
Non, ut in coelo salves me, 
Aut ne aeternum damnes me ; 



Nee praemii uUius spe 
Sed s'ieut Tu amasti me ; 
Sic amo et amabo Te, 
Solum, quia Rex mens es. 

Daniel, II. 335. 



tJ 




LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO 
CHRIST. 



JESUS, THOU JOY OF LOVING HEARTS! 

{yes7is, dulcedo cordium.^ 



A free and happy transfusion of selected stanzas from St. Bernard's " Jesu dulcis 
memoria," 1153 (see pp. 405-409), by the Rev. Dr. Ray Palmer, prepared, 1S5S, for 
the Andover Sabbath Hymn-Book. The first verse corresponds to the fourth in the 
Latin: "Jesus, dulcedo cordium, Fons veri, Lumen mentium," &c. Sir R. Palmer 
has given this hymn a place among the communion-hymns in his collection (No. 296), 
with the note, "Anonymous [i860]. From St. Bernard." 



TESUS, Thou Joy of loving hearts ! 
^ Thou Fount of Life ! Thou Light of men ! 
From the best bhss that earth imparts, 
We turn unfilled to Thee again. 

Thy truth unchanged hath ever stood ; 

Thou savest those that on Thee call ; 
To them that seek Thee, Thou art good, 

To them that find Thee, All in All ! 



604 LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. 

We taste Thee, O Thou Living Bread ! 

And long to feast upon Thee still ; 
We drink of Thee, the Fountain Head, 

And thirst our souls from Thee to fill. 

Our restless spirits yearn for Thee, 
Where'er our changeful lot is cast ; 

Glad when Thy gracious smile we see, 
Blest when our faith can hold Thee fast. 

O Jesus ! ever with us stay. 

Make all our moments calm and bright ; 
Chase the dark night of sin away, 

Shed o'er the world Thy holy light ! 



I GIVE MY HEART TO THEE. 

(^Cor meum Tibi dedo^ Jesu dulctsstme.^ 



From a charming Latin poem, of uncertain date and authorship, in Daniel's 
Tkes. II. 370, freely and happily reproduced by the Rev. Dr. Ray Palmer, for this 
Collection, Aug. 20, 1868. I know of no other English version. 



T GIVE my heart to Thee, 
"^ O Jesus most desired ! 
And heart for heart the gift shall be, 
For Thou my soul hast fired : 
Thou hearts alone would'st move ; 
Thou only hearts dost love. 
I would love Thee as Thou lov'st me, 
O Jesus most desired ! 



I GIVE MY HEART TO THEE. 605 

What offering can I make, 

Dear Lord, to love like Thine? 
That Thou, the God, didst stoop to take 
A human form like mine ! 
" Give me thy heart. My son : " 
Behold my heart, — 'tis done ! 
I would love Thee as Thou lov'st me, 
O Jesus most desired ! 

Thy heart is opened wide, 
Its offered love most free. 
That heart to heart I may abide, 
And hide myself in Thee : ^ 
Ah, how Thy love doth burn. 
Till I that love return ! 
I would love Thee as Thou lov'st me, 
O Jesus most desired ! 

Here finds my heart its rest. 
Repose that knows no shock. 
The strength of love that keeps it blest, 
In Thee, the riven Rock : ^ 
My soul, as girt around. 
Her citadel hath found. 
I would love Thee as Thou lov'st me, 
O Jesus most desired ! 

1 Cor Tuum est apertum ut intrem libere, 
Ut cordi cor insertum condatur intime." 

2 "In petrae hoc foramine," an allusion to Cant. ii. 14, in its 
allegorical sense; to which, also, Topladj's " Rock of ages, cleft 



6o6 



LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. 



JESUS, I LOVE THEE. 

{O Deus, ego amo Te, Nee amo Te ut salves me.') 



A free translation of the " Suspirium amoris" of Francis Xavier, "the apostle 
of the Indies;" b. in Spain, 1506; d. in China, 1552; one of the most devoted and 
successful missionaries of the Roman-Catholic Church, burning with the love of Christ 
and the love of souls, which is the essence of true piety, whether Catholic or Protestant. 
The translation is substantially that of E. Caswall {Lyra Catholica, p. 338) : " My 
God, I love Thee, — not because," with a few changes and an additional verse. The 
poem was written in Latin, but soon translated into the Spanish, from which Diepen- 
brock's German version (Daniel, IV. 347) was made. See the Latin on p. 602 ; and 
in Daniel, II. p. 335, without name, — the authorship of Xavier being doubtful. 



TESUS, I love Thee, — not because 
^ I hope for heaven thereby. 
Nor yet because, if I love not, 
I must for ever die. 

I love Thee, Saviour dear, and still 

I ever will love Thee, 
Solely because my God Thou art. 

Who first hast loved me. 



for me," may be referred. St. Bernard says : "Foramina petrse, 
vulnera Christi." In the anonymous hymn, "Ecquis binas colum- 
binas " (Daniel, II. 344; Trench, p. 150), the following beau- 
tiful stanza occurs : — 

" Et profunde me reconde- 
Intra sacra vulnera ; 
In superna me cavemSl 

Colloca maceriae. 
Hie viventi, quiescenti 

Finis est miseriae." 



D" 



JESUS, I LOVE THEE. 607 

For me to lowest depths of woe 

Thou didst Thyself abase ; 
For me didst bear the cross and shame 

And manifold disgrace. 

For me didst suffer pains unknown, 

Blood-sweat and agony, 
Yea, death itself, — all, all for me, 

Who was Thine enemy. 

Then why, O blessed Saviour mine ! 

Should I not love Thee well? 
Not for the sake of winning heaven, 

Nor of escaping hell ; 

Not with the hope of gaining aught, 

Nor seeking a reward, — 
But freely, fully, as Thyself 

Hast loved me, O Lord ! 

Even so I love Thee and will love, 

And in Thy praise will sing ; 
Solely because Thou art my God, 

And my eternal King. 



6o8 LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. 



JESUS, I LOVE THEE EVERMORE. 

(O Deus, ego amo Te, Nam frior Tu amasti me.') 



From an anonymous Latin poem in Daniel, II. 335, similar to the preceding 
one of Xavier, translated by the Hon. E. C. Benedict, New York, August, 1868. 
Contributed. 



TESUS, I love Thee evermore, 
^ For Thou hast loved me, Lord, before ; 
I have no freedom but to be 
A willing slave, dear Lord, to Thee. 

Let memory, then, no thought retain, 
Except the glory of Thy reign ; 
Nor let my mind desire below 
Aught but the love of Christ to know. 

I cannot have a wish or thought. 
Except to love Thee as I ought ; 
What, by Thy gracious gift, is mine, 
With joy I freely make it Thine. 

From Thee I have, to Thee I give, 
In Thy commands, oh, let me live ! 
My wants will then be all supplied. 
For all are only dreams beside. 



O LORD ! I LOVE THEE. 



609 



O LORD! I LOVE THEE. 

(^Herzlick lieb hab ich Dich, o Herr.') 



Martin Schalling, a pupil of Mekncthon, and pastor in the Palatinate. 1571. 
Based on Ps. 18 and 73 ; a favorite hymn of Spener, Gellert, the Duchess of Orleans 
(daughter of Louis Philippe), and others. Schaff's G. H. B., No. 310. Other ver- 
sions, by Mills [Horce Gerin., p. 80): "I love Thee, Lord, with love sincere;" 
C. WiNKWORTH {Lyra Germ., II. 218) : " Lord, all my heart is fixed on Thee." The 
following preserves the measure of the original. 



r\ LORD ! I love Thee from my heart ; 
^^ I pray Thee never more depart, 

With help and grace to cheer me ; 
I scorn the richest earthly lot ; 
E'en heaven itself attracts me not, 

If I can feel Thee near me. 
Through all my heart's severest pains. 
In Thee my confidence remains ; 
That Saviom* shall my comfort be 
Who by His blood hath pmxhased me. 

O Jesus Christ, my God and Lord, 
My God and Lord ! 

Be near, according to Thy Word. 

Yea, Lord, 'twas Thy free bounty gave 
My body, soul, and all I have 
In this poor life of mine ; 
39 



ft 



6io 



LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. 



That I may spend them in Thy praise, 
And use, and service all my days, 

Give me Thy grace divine I 
Guard me when heresies arise, 
And shield from Satan's murderous lies : 
For all my crosses strengthen me ; 
Then shall I bear them patiently. 

O Jesus Christ, my Lord and God, 
My Lord and God ! 

Comfort my soul beneath its load. 



Ah ! Lord, let Thy dear angels fly, 
At last, and bear my soul on high, 

On Abraham's breast to stay ; 
My flesh, in its dark sleeping-room. 
Rest softly where no ill shall come 

Until the Judgment-day. 
Then from the dead awaken me. 
That these glad eyes may look on Thee, 
O Jesus, God's eternal Son ! 
My Saviour ! on Thy glorious throne. 

Lord Jesus Christ, my prayer attend. 
My prayer attend, 

And I will praise Thee without end. 



JESUS, THY BOUNDLESS LOVE TO ME. 6ll 

JESUS, THY BOUNDLESS LOVE TO ME. 

(^O Jesu Christ, viein schonstes LicJit.^ 



Freely condensed from a German hymn of Paul Gerhardt, 1653, which is based 
upon a meditation and prayer in John Arxdt's Paradiesgdrtleiii. Savile gives 
it, in his Lyra Sacra, without the name of the translator. See the original in Wack- 
ernagel's ed. of P. Gerhardt's Geistliche Lieder, 1855, p. 174 (sixteen stanzas, 
of eight lines each), and partly in Knapp's Liederschatz, 3d ed., No. 1813 (twelve 
stanzas). 



TESUS, Thy boundless love to me 
^ No thought can reach, no tongue declare. 
O knit my thankful heart to Thee 

And reign without a rival there ! 
Thine wholly, Thine alone, I am; 
Be Thou alone my constant flame ! 

O grant that nothing in my soul 

May dwell but Thy pure love alone ; 

O may Thy love possess me whole. 
My joy, my treasure, and my crown : 

Strange flames far from my heart remove ; 

May every act, word, thought, be love ! 

O Love, how cheering is Thy ray ! 

All pain before Thy presence flies : 
Care, anguish, sorrow, melt away. 

Where'er Thy healing beams arise. 
O Jesus, nothing may I see. 
Nothing desire or seek, but Thee ! 



6l2 LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. 

Still let Thy love point out my way ! 

What wondrous things Thy love hath wrought ! 
Still lead me, lest I go astray ; 

Direct my word, inspire my thought ; 
And if I fall, soon may I hear 
Thy voice, and know that love is near. 

In suffering, be Thy love my peace ; 

In weakness, be Thy love my power ; 
And when the storms of life shall cease, 

Jesus, in that dark, final hour 
Of death, be Thou my guide and friend, 
That I may love Thee without end. 



I PLACE AN OFFERING. 



"The perfect sacrifice." From the French of Madame Jeanne Marie Bauvier 
DE LA MoTHE GuYON, by WiLLiAM Co»vpER. Madame G. was born 1648, d. 1717; 
one of the most interesting characters in the history of mysticism and religious enthu- 
siasm ; devoted to the system of quietism and the principle of disinterested love to God ; 
much defamed, persecuted, and imprisoned for heresy and eccentricity, but defended 
by Fenelon. She wrote many works, and a large number of hymns distinguished for 
graceful composition and exquisite sensibility, though not free from pious extravagance. 
Some of the latter were admirably translated by Cowper. We select the best. 



T PLACE an offering at Thy shrine 

From taint and blemish clear. 
Simple and pure in its design. 
Of all that I hold dear. 



THE LORD OF ALL THINGS. 613 

I yield Thee back Thy gifts again, 
Thy gifts which most I prize ; 

Desirous only to retain 
The notice of Thine eyes. 

But if, by Thine adored decree, 

That blessing be denied, 
Resigned and unreluctant, see 

My every wish subside. 

Thy will in all things I approve, 

Exalted or cast down ; 
Thy will in every state I love, 

And even in Thy frown. 



THE LORD OF ALL THINGS. 



From the French of Madame de la Mothe Guyon, by Wii-liam Cowper. 
Select lines from her poem on the Nativity, arranged in stanzas bj' the Editor. 



'TPHE Lord of all things, in His humble birth, 

-^ Makes mean the proud magnificence of earth ; 
The straw, the manger, and the mouldering wall 
Eclipse its lustre ; and I scorn it all. 

All, all have lost the charms they once possessed; 
An infant God reigns sovereign in my breast : 
From Bethlehem's bosom I no more will rove ; 
There dwells the Saviour, and there rests mv love. 



6l4 LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. 

But I am poor, oblation I have none, 
None for a Saviour but Himself alone : 
Whate'er I render Thee, from Thee it came ; 
And, if I give my body to the flame. 

My patience, love, and energy divine 
Of heart and soul and spirit, all are Thine. 
Ah, vain attempt to expunge the mighty score ! 
The more I pay, I owe Thee still the more. 

The more I love Thee, I the more reprove 
A soul so lifeless, and so slow to love ; 
Till, on a deluge of Thy mercy tossed, 
I plunge into that sea, and there am lost. 



YES: I WILL ALWAYS LOVE. 



From the French of Madame Guyon, translated by Cowper. Part of a poem 
commendng: "Ye linnets, let us try beneath this grove." We must omit the poem 
from her prison, "O Thou! by long experience tried," where the beautiful passage 



" My country, Lord, art Thou alone : 
No other can I claim my own : 
The point where all my wishes meet. 
My law, my love, life's only sweet." 



A/'ES : I will always love ; and, as I ought, 
■^ Tune to the praise of love my ceaseless voice ; 
Preferring love too vast for human thought, 

In spite of erring men, who cavil at my choice. 



O LOVE DIVINE ! 615 

Why have I not a thousand thousand hearts, 

Lord of my soul ! that they might all be Thine ? 

If Thou approve, — the zeal Thy smile imparts, 
How should it ever fail ? Can such a fire decline ? 

Love, pure and holy, is a deathless fire ; 

Its object heavenly, it must ever blaze ; 
Eternal love a God must needs inspire, 

When once He wins the heart, and fits it for His 
praise. 

Self-love dismissed, — 'tis then we live indeed; 

In her embrace, death, only death is found ; 
Come, then, one noble effort, and succeed ; 

Cast ofi* the chain of self with which thy soul is 
bound. 

O, I would cry, that all the world might hear, 
Ye self-tormentors, love your God alone; 

Let His unequalled excellence be dear. 

Dear to your inmost souls, and make Him all 
your own ! 



O LOVE DIVINE. 



Charles Wesley. "Desiring to Love." J'irst printed in Lamp's Hymtis on 
the Great Festivals, &c., 1746, and next in Charies Wesley's Hymns and Sacred 
Poems, 1749. 



O 



LOVE divine, how sweet Thou art ! 
When shall I find my willing heart 



6i6 



LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST, 



All taken up by Thee ? 
I thirst and faint and die to prove 
The greatness of redeeming love, 

The love of Christ to me ! 

Stronger His love than death or hell ; 
Its riches are unsearchable : 

The first-born sons of light 
Desire in vain its depth to see ; 
They cannot reach the mystery, 

The length and breadth and height. 

God only knows the love of God : 
O that it now were shed abroad 

In this poor stony heart ! 
For love I sigh, for love I pine : 
This only portion, Lord, be mine, 

Be mine this better part ! 

O that I could for ever sit 
With Mary at the Master's feet ! 

Be this my happy choice : 
My only care, delight, and bliss, 
My joy, my heaven on earth, be this. 

To hear the Bridegroom's voice ! 

O that, with humbled Peter, I 

Could weep, believe, and thrice reply. 

My faithfulness to prove : 
Thou know'st (for all to Thee is known), 
Thou know'st, O Lord ! and Thou alone. 

Thou know'st that Thee I love. 



6i7 



O that I could, with favored John, 
RecHne my weary head upon 

The dear Redeemer's breast ! 
From care and sin and sorrow free. 
Give me, O Lord ! to find in Thee 

My everlasting rest. 

Thy only love do I require, 
Nothing in earth beneath desire, 

Nothing in heaven above : 
Let earth and heaven and all things go 
Give me Th}^ only love to know, 

Give me Thy only love. 



JESUS, I LOVE THY NAME. 



Ph. Doddridge, d. 1751. "Christ precious to the Believer." i Peter ii. 7. 



TESUS, I love Thy charming name, 
^ 'Tis music to mine ear ; 
Fain would I sound it out so loud 
That earth and heaven should hear. 

Yes : Thou art precious to my soul, 
My transport and my trust ; 

Jewels to Thee are gaudy toys, 
And gold is sordid dust. 



6l8 LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. 

All my capacious powers can wish, 

In Thee doth richly meet : 
Nor to mine eyes is light so dear 

Nor friendship half so sweet. 

Thy grace still dwells upon my heart, 
And sheds its fragrance there ; 

The noblest balm of all its wounds. 
The cordial of its care. 

I'll speak the honors of Thy name 
With my last laboring breath ; 

Then, speechless, clasp Thee in mine arms, 
The antidote of death. 



COMPARED WITH CHRIST. 



By Augustus Montague Toplady. 1772. " Christ all in all." 



/COMPARED with Christ, in all beside 

^-^ No comeliness I see ; 

The one thing needful, dearest Lord, 

Is to be one with Thee. 
The sense of Thy expiring love 

Into my soul convey ; 
Thyself bestow ; for Thee alone 

I absolutely pray. 






WHEN THIS PASSING WORLD IS DONE. 619 

Whatever else Thy will withholds, 

Here grant me to succeed : 
O let Th3'self my portion be, 

And I am blest indeed ! 
Less than Thyself will not suffice 

My comfort to restore : 
More than Thyself I cannot have ; 

And Thou canst give no more. 

Loved of my God, for Him again 

With love intense I burn ; 
Chosen of Thee e'er time began, 

I choose Thee in return. 
Whate'er consists not with Thy love, 

Oh teach me to resign ; 
I'm rich to all the intents of bliss. 

If Thou, O God ! art mine. 



WHEN THIS PASSING WORLD IS DONE. 



The Rev. Robert Murray McCheyne ; b. 1813, d. 1843; one of the most ear- 
nest of modem Scottish preachers. "Our Indebtedness to Christ." The text from 
Rogers, p. 381. 

TT 7 HEN this passing world is done, 
' ' When has sunk yon glaring sun. 
When we stand with Christ in glory, 
Looking o'er life's finished story, 
Then, Lord, shall I fully know, — 
Not till then, — how much I owe. 



620 



LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. 



When I hear the wicked call 
On the rocks and hills to fall ; 
When I see them start and shrink, 
On the fiery deluge brink, — 
Then, Lord, shall I fully know, — 
Not till then, — how much I owe. 

When I stand before the throne, 
Dressed in beauty not my own ; 
When I see Thee as Thou art. 
Love Thee with unsinning heart, — 
Then, Lord, shall I fully know, — 
Not till then, — how much I owe. 

When the praise of heaven I hear, 
Loud as thunder to the ear. 
Loud as many waters' noise. 
Sweet as harp's melodious voice, 
Then, Lord, shall I fully know, — 
Not till then, — how much I owe. 

Even on earth, as through a glass, 
Darkly let Thy glory pass, 
Make forgiveness feel so sweet. 
Make Thy Spirit's help so meet, 
Even on earth, Lord, make me know 
Something of how much I owe. 

Chosen not for good in me, 
Wakened up from wrath to flee, 



^ 



WHEN THIS PASSING WORLD IS DONE. 62 1 

Hidden in the Saviour's side, 
By the Spirit sanctified ! 
Teach me, Lord, on earth to show, 
By my love, how much I owe. 

Oft I walk beneath the cloud. 
Dark as midnight's gloomy shroud ; 
But, when fear is at the height, 
Jesus comes, and all is light. 
Blessed Jesus ! bid me show 
Doubting saints how much I owe. 

When in flowery paths I tread. 

Oft by sin I'm captive led ; 

Oft I fall, but still arise ; 

The Spirit comes — the tempter flies ; 

Blessed Spirit ! bid me show 

Weary sinners all I owe. 

Oft the nights of sorrow reign. 
Weeping, sickness, sighing, pain : 
But a night Thine anger burns ; 
Morning comes and joy returns ; 
God of comforts ! bid me show 
To Thy poor how much I owe. 



622 



LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. 



OH HOW COULD I FORGET HIM? 

( Wte knnnt' ich Sein vergessen.) 



From the German of Gottlob Christian Kern, a highly accomplished and 
deeply pious Evangelical pastor in the kingdom of Wurtemberg, d. 1835. Translated 
by Catherine Winkworth. This beautiful hymn was written for the holy com- 
munion. See verse 4. 



/^H how could I forget Him 
^-^ Who ne'er forgetteth me? 
Or tell the love that let Him 

Come down to set me free ? 
I lay in darkest sadness, 

Till He made all things new ; 
And still fresh love and gladness 

Flow from that heart so true. 

Oh how could I e'er leave Him 

Who is so kind a Friend? 
Or how could ever grieve Him 

Who thus to me doth bend? 
Have I not seen Him dying 

For us on yonder tree? 
Do I not hear Him crying : 

Arise and follow Me ! 

For ever will I love Him 

Who saw my hopeless plight, 

Who felt my sorrows move Him, 
And brought me life and light : 



O ABIDE, ABIDE IN JESUS ! 623 

Whose arm shall be around me 

When my last hour is come, 
And suffer none to wound me, 

Though dark the passage home. 

He gives me pledges holy. 

His body and His blood. 
He lifts the scorned, the lowly, 

He makes my courage good ; 
For He will reign within me, 

And shed His graces there : 
The heaven He died to win me 

Can I then fail to share? 

In joy and sorrow ever 

Shine through me, Blessed Heart, 
Who bleeding for us never 

Didst shrink from sorest smart ! 
Whate'er I've loved or striven 

Or borne, I bring to Thee ; 
Now let Thy heart and heaven 

Stand open. Lord, to me ! 



O ABIDE, ABIDE IN JESUS! 

(Bleibt hei Dem, der euretwillen.') 



"Abide in Jesus." By Ph. Spitta, d. 1859. From Psalter und Harfe, 1S36. 
Translated by R. Massie, i860. 



O 



ABIDE, abide in Jesus, 

Who for us bare griefs untold. 



624 LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. 

And Himself, from pain to ease us, 
Suffered pangs a thousand-fold I 

Bide with Him who still abideth 
When all else shall pass away, 

And as Judge supreme presideth 
In that dread and awful day. 

All is dying : hearts are breaking, 

Which to ours were once fast bound ; 
And the lips have ceased from speaking, 

Which once uttered such sweet sound ; 
And the arms are powerless lying. 

Which were our support and stay ; 
And the eyes are dim and dying. 

Which once watched us night and day. 

Every thing we love and cherish 

Hastens onward to the grave, 
Earthly joys and pleasures perish. 

And whate'er the world e'er gave : 
All is fading, all is fleeing, 

Earthly flames must cease to glow ; 
Earthly beings cease from being, 

Earthly blossoms cease to blow. 

Yet unchanged, while all decayeth, 

Jesus stands upon the dust ; 
^^Lean on Me alone," He sayeth, 

" Hope and love and firmly trust ! " 



MORE THAN ALL. 625 

O abide, abide with Jesus, 

Who Himself for ever hves, 
Who from death eternal frees us, 

Yea, who life eternal gives ! 



MORE THAN ALL. 

{Eines ivunsch ich mir vor allem andern.) 



The best hymn of Albert Knapp, one of the most fertile German poets (d. at 
Stuttgart, 1864) ; written, 1823, for a catechumen ; first published 1829, and since in- 
troduced into several hymn-books (Schaff's G. H. B., No. 170). Translated, at the 
request of the editor, for the first time, by Prof. Thos. C. Porter, Lafayette College, 
Easton, Pa., April 13, 1868. 

IV/rORE than all, one thing my heart is craving, 
^^■^ As my food by night or day : 
With it blessed and all trials braving. 

Through this wilderness we stray : 
Ever on the Man to gaze adoring, 
Who, with bloody sweat and tears, imploring. 

On His face submissive sank. 

And the Father's chalice drank. 

Ever shall mine eyes, His form retaining. 

View the Lamb once slain for me. 
As He yonder, pale and uncomplaining. 

Hangs upon the bitter tree ; 
As He thirsting, wrestled in His anguish. 
That in hell my soul might never languish, — 

Of me thinking, when His cry, 

"It is finished ! " rose on high. 
40 





C\ 


f>k 




— ^ r ... 




c. 




^ 


1 


626 LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. 

my Saviour ! never shall Thy kindness, 
Nor my guilt, forgotten be : 

When I sat a stranger in my blindness. 

Thou didst still remember me ; 
For Thy sheep Thou long hadst interceded, 
Ere the Shepherd's gentle voice was heeded. 

And — a costly ransom-price ! — 

Bought me with Thy sacrifice. 

1 am Thine ! Say Thou, " Amen, for ever ! " 

Blessed Jesus, mine Thou art ! 
Let Thy precious name escape me never ; 

Stamp it burning on my heart. 
With Thee all things bearing and achieving ; 
In Thee both to live and die, believing : 

This our solemn covenant be. 

Till my spirit rest in Thee ! 


l> 




LOVEST THOU ME? 


. 




James Montgomery. 1853. 






" T OVEST thou Me ? " I hear my Saviour say : 
^ Would that my heart had power to answer 










"Yea! 






Thou knowest all things. Lord, in heaven above 






And earth beneath : Thou knowest that I love." 






But 'tis not so : in word, in deed, in thought, 




c 


I do not, cannot, love Thee as I ought ; 


> 






") 




*f <;■■ 






J 


J 



JESU, MY LORD, MY GOD, MY ALL. 627 

Thy love must give that power. Thy love alone ; 
There's nothing worthy of Thee but Thine own : 
Lord, with the love wherewith Thou lovest me, 
Reflected on Thyself, I would love Thee. 



JESU, MY LORD, MY GOD, MY ALL. 



From Hym7is Ancient and Modern, No. 178, and The People'' s HymftaL No. 508. 
This hymn is evidently suggested by a eucharistic hymn, " Corpus Christi,"' of F. W. 
Faber (p. 107 in the last ed. of his Hymns, Lend. 1862), commencing, — 

" Jesus ! my Lord, my God, my All ! 
How can I love Thee as I ought ? 
And how revere this wondrous gift. 
So far surpassing hope or thought? 
Sweet Sacratne7it, we Thee adore ! 
Oh make us love Thee more and more ! " 



TESU, my Lord, my God, my All, 

Hear me, blest Saviour, when I call : 
Hear me, and from Thy dwelling-place 
Pour down the riches of Thy grace. 
Jesu, my Lord, I Thee adore ; 
Oh make me love Thee more and more ! 

Jesu, too late I Thee have sought : 
How can I love Thee as I ought ; 
And how extol Th}^ matchless fame. 
The glorious beauty of Thy name? 

Jesu, my Lord, I Thee adore ; 

Oh make me love Thee more and more ! 



628 LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. 

Jesu, what didst Thou find in me, 
That Thou hast dealt so lovingly? 
How great the joy that Thou hast brought, 
So far exceeding hope or thought ! 

Jesu, my Lord, I Thee adore ; 

Oh make me love Thee more and more ! 

Jesu, of Thee shall be my song.: 

To Thee my heart and soul belong ; 

All that I have or am is Thine, 

And Thou, blest Saviour, Thou art mine. 

Jesu, my Lord, I Thee adore ; 

Oh make me love Thee more and more ! 



JESUS, THESE EYES HAVE NEVER SEEN. 



The Rev. Dr. Ray Palmer. Christ loved unseen, i Peter i. 8. From Hym7is 
and Sacred Pieces. New York, 1865. Written, 1858, for the Andover Sabbath 
Hymn-Book. 



TESUS, these eyes have never seen 
^ That radiant form of Thine ; 
The veil of sense hangs dark between 
Thy blessed face and mine. 

I see Thee not, I hear Thee not, 

Yet art Thou oft with me ; 
And earth hath ne'er so dear a spot 

As where I meet with Thee. 



THAT HOLY ONE. 629 

Like some bright dream that comes unsought, 

When slumbers o'er me roll, 
Thine image ever fills my thought, 

And charms my ravished soul. 

Yet though I have not seen, and still 

Must rest in faith alone, 
I love Thee, dearest Lord, — and will. 

Unseen, but not unknown. 

When death these mortal eyes shall seal, 

And still this throbbing heart. 
The rending veil shall Thee reveal, 

All glorious as Thou art. 



THAT HOLY ONE. 



"Consider Him." By A. D. F. Randolph. Written Sept., 1867. Contributed. 



npHAT Holy One, 

Who came to earth for thee, 
Oh strangest thing beneath the sun, 
That He, by any mortal one. 
Forgotten e'er should be ! 

The Son of God, 
Who pity had on thee ; 



630 LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. 

Who turned aside the smiting rod, 
And all alone the Garden trod, — 
Forgotten shall He be? 

The blessed Lord, 
Who came to die for thee ; 
Whom Jew and Gentile then abhorred, 
While heavenly hosts His name adored, 

Forgotten can He be? 

That Brother, Friend, 
Who daily waits on thee ; 
Who every want doth comprehend 
With love divine that has no end, — 

Forgotten can He be? 

Patient One ! 

Thou speakest thus to me : 
"Oh strangest thing beneath the sun. 
That thou, for whom so much is done, 
Shouldst oft forgetful be ! " 

My Lord, I know 
What truth Thou say'st to me : 
Forgive my sin, on me bestow 

Such grace, as hence to all will show 

1 do consider Thee. 




FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 



" In My Father's house are many mansions. . . I go to prepare a place for j'ou." 
— John xiv. 2. 

"Where I am, there shall also My servant be." — John xii. 26, 

" And so shall we ever be with the Lord." — i Thess. iv. 17. 

" Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the 
things which God hath prepared for them that love Him." — i Cor. ii. 9. 

"We shall be like Him ; for we shall see Him as He is." — i John iii. 2. 



What no human eye hath seen, 
What no mortal ear hath heard, 

What on thought hath never been. 
In its noblest flights, conferred, — 

This hath God prepared in store 

For His people evermore ! 



Jesus reigns, the Life, the Sun, 
Of that wondrous world above ; 

All the clouds and storms are gone, 
All is light, and all is love. 

All the shadows melt away 

In the blaze of perfect day ! 

Dr. Lange (Germany). 



For ever with the Lord ! 

Amen ! so let it be ! 
Life from the dead is in that word, 

And immortality. 

James Montgomery (England). 



" I would not live alway ! " no longer I sing ; 
Live alway I shall, whilst Jesus is King : 
United to Him, His righteousness mine. 
My life bound in His, no fate shall untwine. 
Ne'er till sin enters heaven, and Death wields his rod. 
Defiant, enthroned in the palace of God ; 
Not till heaven's a graveyard, and Christ lies there slain, — 
Shall I cease in His glorj', and with Him to reign. 
Dr. Muhlenberg. Postscript to his " I would not live alway." 1868. (America.) 



s 



' Let not your heart be troubled," Jesus said, 
" My Father's house hath mansions large and fair ; 
go before you to prepare your place ; 
I will return to take you with Me there." 

H. Beecher Stowe. 



THANK Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept I thank Thee, Lord, that here our souls, 



The best in store : 
We have enough, yet not too much 

To long for more, — 
A yearning for a deeper peace, 

Not known before. 



Though amply blest. 
Can never find, although they seek, 

A perfect rest ; 
Nor ever shall, until they lean 

On Jesus' breast. 

Adelaide A. Procter. 



Yet one pang, searching and sore, 
And then heaven for ever more ; 
Yet one moment awful and dark, 
Then safety within the Veil and the Ark ; 
Yet one effort by Christ, His grace, 
Then Christ for ever face to face. 

Christina G. Rossetti. 



FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 



MY HOME IN HEAVEN ALONE. 

[Movvi] /xoi Tzarpr] TxepilsiTrero.) 



Trsl. from the Greek of Bishop Gregory of Nazianzen (d. 390), a great pulpit 
orator and divine, who divided his Ufa between the silence of monastic seclusion and 
the tumult of public usefulness. He was one of the ablest defenders of the Divinity 
of Christ, and presided over the second Ecumenical Council, at Constantinople, 381, 
but voluntarily resigned. Deeply lamenting the evils and distractions of the Church 
of his age, he longed for eternal rest in Christ. He wrote a large number of verses, 
mostly descriptive of his own life and the times in which he lived, also odes, and a 
drama on the Suifering Saviour. In the following poem, he struggles, from the depth 
of his complaints and fears, after the loss of father, mother, brother, and sister, into 
the light of God. It commences : Hov 6e "kbyoi TTTepoevreg ; slg aepa^ " Where 
are the winged words? Lost in the air." The first six lines are omitted. See the 
Greek in Gregory's Opera, I. 77, and in Daniel, III. 11. Another English version, 
by Mrs. Charles. 



1\ /TY home in heaven alone to me remains, 
^^^ The floods of faction o'er my country sweep ; 
For my uncertain feet, the land retains 
No resting-place, no friend to weep ; 
No child to soothe the homeless poor forlorn ; 
I wander day by day with trembling limbs and torn. 

What lot awaits me ? What my mortal doom ? 

Where shall this jaded body find its rest? 
Shall this poor trembling flesh e'er find a tomb ? 

By whom shall these dim eyes in death be blest? 



^34 



FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 



Will any watch ? Will any pity me ? 

Will they be Christian watchers ? Or shall sinners 

see? 

Or shall no grave inclose this mortal frame, 
When laid a heavy breathless corpse of clay? 

Cast on the rock uncovered and in shame, 

Or tossed in scorn to birds and beasts of prey? 

Or burnt to ashes, given to the air? 

Or thrown into the weedy deep to perish there ? 

Thy will be done, O Lord ! That day shall spring, 
When at Thy word this clay shall re-appear ! 

No death I dread but that which sin will bring ; 
No fire or flood without Thy wrath I fear ; 

For Thou, O Christ, my Lord ! art fatherland to me. 

My wealth and might and rest; my all I find in 
Thee.i 



i Xpiare uva^, av 6e /xoc Tzarpr], adevog, b7i(iog, u-iravra, 
Hoi 6' up' ava^v^aL[ii jSiov koX Krjde' ufteiipac. 

" Thus," sajs Mrs. Charles of this poem (T/ie Voice of Christian 
Life in Song; p. 66), " in the old Ionic tongue, the wail of feeble 
mortality went forth once more, but with a close the old Ionic 
music never knew; for Christ had died, and risen from the dead, 
and the other world was a region of melancholy shades no longer, 
for He is there." 



CEASE, YE TEARFUL MOURNERS 1 



635 



CEASE, YE TEARFUL MOURNERS! 

{jfam incesta quiesce querela.) 



The celebrated funeral-hymn of Prudentius Clemens, of Spain (d. 405) ; his 
masterpiece ; originally the concluding part of his tenth Cathemeritiun, but complete as 
an independent poem, which, after lying dormant to the 16th century, arose to new 
life, and became (in the version, " Hbrt auf mit Trauem und Klagen ") a favorite 
funeral-hymn in Protestant Germany. See the original in full in Prud., Opera, ed. 
Obbarius (1845), p. 41, and in part in Daniel, I. p. 137; Wackernagel, I. 40 and 
329 ; Trench, p. 281. It reminds one of the worship in the catacombs, whose gloom 
was lit up with the hope of a glorious resurrection in Christ. Freely translated by 
E. Caswall. German translations by Knapp, Puchta, Kbnigsfeld, Bissler, Schaff. 
Another English version, without rhymes, by Mrs. Charles (in Voice 0/ Christian 
Life ift Song, p. no) : " Ah ! hush now your mournful complainings ; " and one, on the 
basis of a German version (in Bunsen's Gesatighich, No. 288), by Miss Catherine 
Winkworth : " Oh weep not, mourn not, over this bier ! " 

The conception of the resurrection contained in this poem, and taught by several 
of the ancient Fathers, especially Jerome, is rather materialistic. Paul teaches the 
resurrection of the body, not of the flesh (i Cor. xv. 50). Lazarus was raised in the 
flesh, but to die again : the resurrection-body will be immortal. 



/^"^EASE, ye tearful mourners, 
^-^ Thus your hearts to rend : 
Death is Hfe's beginning 
Rather than its end.^ 

All the grave's adornments. 
What do they declare. 

Save that the departed 
Are but sleeping there? 



1 A more literal rendering, in the measure of the original : — 

" Each sorrowful mourner be silent ! 
Fond mothers, give over your weeping ! 
None grieve for those pledges as perished : 
This dying is life's reparation." 





^ 




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636 


FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

What though now to darkness 

We this body give ; 
Soon shall all its senses 

Re-awake and live. 

Soon shall warmth revisit 
These poor bones again, 

And the blood meander 

Through each tingling vein ; 

And from its corruption 
This same body soar, 

With the selfsame spirit 
That was here of yore. 

E'en as duly scattered 

By the sower's hand 
In the fading autumn 

O'er the fallow land. 

Nature's seed, decaying. 
First in darkness dies. 

Ere it can in glory 
Renovated rise. 




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Earth, to thy fond bosom 
We this pledge intrust ; 

Oh ! we pray, be careful 
Of the precious dust. 




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CEASE, YE TEARFUL MOURNERS, 637 

This was once the mansion 

Of a soul endowed 
With subhmest powers, 

By the breath of God. 

Here eternal Wisdom 

Lately made His home ; 
And again will claim it 

In the days to come ; 

When thou must this body, 

Bone for bone, restore, — 
Every single feature 

Perfect as before. 

O divinest period ! 

Speed upon thy way ; 
O eternal Justice ! 

Make no more delay. 

When shall love in glory 

Its fruition see? 
When shall hope be lost in 

Immortality ? 



638 FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

NO MORE, AH, NO MORE. 

{Jam mcesta quiesce querela.^ 



Another, and more faithful, version of the resurrection hymn of Prudentius, by 
the Rev. Dr. E. A. Washburn, New York, 1865 ; revised, Oct. 1868. See the note 
on the preceding hymn. 



l^rO more, ah, no more sad complaining; 
^ ^ Resign these fond pledges to earth : 
Stay, mothers, the thick-falling tear-drops ; 
This death is a heavenly birth. 

What mean these still caverns of marble. 
Fair shrines that the dear ashes keep ? 

How sweetly they tell of the loved ones, 
Not dead, but soft resting in sleep ! 

What though, on the pale, icy forehead, 
No gleam of the intellect break? 

A moment it slumbers, till nobler 
Its powers in their beauty awake. 

Soon, soon, through the motionless body. 
The warm, loving life-tide shall pour, 

And, blushing with joy, shall revisit 
The home it has dwelt in before. 

These clods, 'neath the hillock reposing. 

Long wasting in silent decay. 
Shall follow the souls that have loved them, 

On winged winds soaring away. 



NO MORE, AH, NO MORE. 639 

So, green from the seed springs the blossom, 
Long perished, long hid in the mould ; 

And, fresh from the turf, it remembers 
The wide-waving harvests of old. 

Take, Earth, to thy bosom so tender, — 
Take, nourish this body. How fair, 

How noble in death ! we surrender 
These relics of man to thy care. 

This, this was the home of the spirit, 
Once built by the breath of our God ; 

And here, in the light of His wisdom, 
Christ, Head of the risen, abode. 

Guard well the dear treasure we lend thee : 

The Maker, the Saviour of men 
Shall never forget His beloved. 

But claim His own likeness again. 

Speed on, perfect year, to the morning; 

God's fulness shall dawn on the just, 
And thou, open Grave, shalt restore us 

The glorified form from the dust. 



640 



FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 



WITH TERROR THOU DOST STRIKE. 

{^Gravi me ierrore ;pulsas, vitce dies ultima.^ 



De Die Mortis. By Peter Damiani, cardinal-bishop of Ostia (1002-1072); 
friend of Hildebrand (afterwards Pope Gregory VII.), whom, " with a marvellous in- 
sight into the heights and depths of his character," he called his " Holy Satan " (Sanc- 
tus Satanas) ; promoter of his hierarchical reforms ; died 1072, after a season of retire- 
ment and prayer, as abbot of Santa Croce d'Avellano , the author of several poems, 
among which that on the Glory and Delights of Paradise (" Ad perennis vitae fontem 
mens sitivit arida") is best known and appreciated. The following comes next in 
merit. Dr. Neale calls it an " awful hymn, the Dies IrcB of individual life " {Mediee- 
val Hymns, p. 52). Translated by the Hon. Erastus C. Benedict, of New York, 
August, 1S68. Contributed. An older translation, by Dr. Neale: "O what terror in 
thy forethought, ending scene of mortal life!" See the Latin in Daniel, I. p. 224; 
KoNiGSFELD {Lat. Hymnen, I. p. 112; fifteen stanzas, with a German version); and 
in Trench, p. 278, who also gives Damiani's epitaph, written by himself. 



TT 7ITH terror thou dost strike me now, life's 

^ ^ fearful dying day I 
My heart is sad, my loins are weak, my spirit faints 

away ; 
While to my saddened soul. Thy sight my anxious 
thoughts display. 

Who can that dreadful sight describe, or without 

trembling see ! 
When, from the ended course of life, the weary soul 

would flee ; 
And, sick of all the bonds of flesh, it struggles to 

be free. 



WITH TERROR THOU DOST STRIKE. 64I 

The senses fail, the tongue is stiff, the eyes uncer- 
tain stray ; 

The panting breath and gasping throat the coming 
end betray ; 

From palsied limbs and pallid lips all charm has 
fled away. 

Now spring at once to view past thoughts and words 

and deeds and life. 
Before unwilling eyes they come, all crowding fresh 

and rife, 
And stand revealed before the mind, that shrinks 

with timid strife. 

And biting conscience tortures now the trembling 

guilty breast, 
And weeps the loss of perished hours, that might 

have given rest : 
Too late repentance, full of grief, no proper fruit 

has blessed. 
Of the false sweetness of the flesh, what bitterness 

remains, 

When the brief pleasure of this life is turned to 
endless pains. 

And all life's idols here below the dying hour dis- 
dains. 



I pray Thee, Jesus, grant me, then, Thine own 
almighty aid, 

41 



642 



FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 



When I shall enter, at the last, in death's dark valley 

shade ; 
Let not the tyrant foe, I pray, my trembling soul 

invade. 

Oh from the prince of darkness, then, and hell's 
dark prison save ! 

And take me ransomed to Thy home. Good Shep- 
herd, now I crave. 

Where I may live in endless life, with Thee, 
beyond the grave. 



THE HEAVENLY JERUSALEM. 

(^Hora novissima.') 



This glowing description of the celestial country is the sweetest of all the New- 
Jerusalem hymns of heavenly home-sickness, which have taken their inspiration from 
the last two chapters of Revelation ; composed, about 1145, by Bernard, a monk of 
Cluny, in France (b., of English parents, at Morlaix, in Bretagne), and contemporary 
of the more illustrious St. Bernard, of Clairvaux ; very freely, but most happily, repro- 
duced, and first made available for popular use, by Dr. John M. Neale, 1859, and 
more fully 1867; arranged, by the Editor, in three separate hymns. (Similar divi- 
sions in Hymns Aftcient a7ul Modern, No. 142, and in The People's Hyinnal, Nos. 
465-469.) The original, entitled De Cofitemptu Mundi, and dedicated to Peter the 
Venerable, abbot of Cluny (1122-1156), is in great part a bitter satire on the corrup- 
tions of the age, but opens, by way of contrast, with this exquisite description of the 
peace and glory of heaven. It comprises nearly three thousand lines, of dactylic hex- 
ameters, with the leonine (sometimes a trisyllabic or dactylic) and tailed rhyme, each 
line being broken up in three equal parts, — a most difficult metre, which only a special 
grace and inspiration enabled the author, as he believed, to master. I quote the first 
lines : — 

Hora novIS5e;«a || tSmpSra ^assima II sunt : vlgilemns ! 

Ecce ! mmdiciter \\ imminet -axbiter \\ ille s\rgire7nns ! 

Imminet, \vs\ininet, || ut mala i&rniinet || zequa coronet. 

Recta xe.m.nneret, || anxia \\beret, \\ aethera donet. 

It was first published by Matthias Flaclus, with other poems calHng for a reformation 
of ecclesiastical abuses, Basle, 1557; and about five times since, more recently by 



BRIEF LIFE IS HERE OUR PORTION. 



643 



Trench, though only in part (96 lines, pp. 304-310) ; but first naturalized in English by 
the admirable transfusion (based upon Trench's extracts) of Dr. Neale, portions of 
which, especially "Jerusalem the golden" (Part III.), have at once been adopted as 
"a priceless acquisition" to the hymns of the Church universal. 

Dr. A. Coles, of Newark, the well-known translator of Dies Irce, published, in 
1866, a more literal version, preserving the leonine and tailed rhymes, but substituting 
anapests for dactj^ls : — 

"The last of the hours, iniquity' towers, 

The times are the worst, let us vigils be keeping ! 
Lest the Judge, who is near, and soon to appear. 

Shall us at His coming find slumbering and sleeping. 
He is nigh. He is nigh ! He descends from the sk\', 

For the ending of evil and the right's coronation. 
The just to reward, relief to afford, 

And the heavens bestow for the saints' habitation." 

S. W. DuFFiELD has gone still further, and attempted a version in the inimitable 
measure of the original (New York, 1867), commencing : — 

" These are the latter times, these are not better times : 
Let us stand waiting. 
Lo ! how, with awfulness, He, first in lawfidness, 
Comes arbitrating. 

Land of delightfulness, safe from all spitefulness. 

Safe fi-om all trouble. 
Thou shalt be filled again, Israel built again ; 

Joy shall redouble." 



PART I. 

BRIEF LIFE IS HERE OUR PORTION. 

(^Hic breve vivitur, hie breve plajigitur, hie breve fleturX) 

"DRIEF life is here our portion, 
■^^ Brief sorrow, short-lived care ; 
The life that knows no ending. 
The tearless life, is there. 



1 Briefly we tarry here, briefly are harried here, 
Here is brief sorrow. 





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644 


FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

happy retribution ! 

Short toil, eternal rest: 
For mortals and for sinners 

A mansion with the blest ! 

There grief is turned to pleasure ; 

Such pleasure, as below 
No human voice can utter. 

No human heart can know. 

Then all the halls of Sion 
For aye shall be complete, 

And in the land of beauty 
All things of beauty meet. 

The Saviour whom we trust in 
Shall then be seen and known. 

And they that know and see Him 
Shall have Him for their own. 

There Jesus shall embrace us. 
There Jesus be embraced, 

That spirit's food and sunshine 
Whence earthly love is chased. 




Cf 




Yes ! Christ my King and Portion, 

In fulness of His grace, 
I then shall see for ever. 

And worship face to face. 


> 




■-■ ■■■- ■■■ ■'■ ~ 1 


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FOR THEE, O DEAR, DEAR COUNTRY ! 645 



PART II. 



FOR THEE, O DEAR, DEAR COUNTRY! 

(6> bona patrza, lumina sobria te speculajitur.^ 

TpOR thee, O dear, dear Country ! 
-^ Mine eyes their vigils keep ; 
For very love, beholding 

Thy happy name, they weep. 

The mention of thy glory 

Is unction to the breast. 
And medicine in sickness, 

And love and life and rest. 

O come, O onely Mansion I 

O Paradise of Joy ! 
Where tears are ever banished, 

And smiles have no alloy. 

The Lamb is all thy splendor. 

The Crucified thy praise : 
His laud and benediction 

Thy ransomed people raise. 

Jesus, the Gem of Beauty, 

True God and Man ! they sing ; 

The never-failing Garden, 
The ever-golden Ring ! 



646 FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

The Shepherd and the Husband, 
The Guardian of His Court ; 

The Day-star of Salvation, 
The Porter and the Port ! 

Thou hast no shore, fair ocean ! 

Thou hast no time, bright day ! 
Dear fountain of refreshment 

To pilgrims far away ! 

Thou feel'st in mystic rapture, 
O Bride, that know'st no guile, 

The Prince's sweetest kisses, 
The Prince's loveliest smile. 

Unfading lilies, bracelets 
Of living pearl thine own : 

The Lamb is ever near thee. 
The Bridegroom thine alone. 



And all thine endless leisure 
In sweetest accents sings 

The ill that was thy merit. 

The wealth that is thy King's ! 



JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN. 



647 



PART III. 



JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN. 

{Urbs Syon aurea^ f atria lactea. cive decora.) 

TERUSx\LEM the golden, 
^ With milk and honey blest ! 
Beneath thy contemplation 

Sink heart and voice oppressed. 

I know not, O I know not, 
What holy joys are there ! 

What radiancy of glory, 

What light beyond compare I 

They stand, those halls of Sion, 

Conjubilant with song. 
And bright with many an angel, 

And all the martyr throng. 

The Prince is ever in them ; 

The daylight is serene : 
The pastures of the blessed 

Are decked in glorious sheen. 

There is the throne of David, 
And there, from care released, 

The song of them that triumph. 
The shout of them that feast. 



648 FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

And they, who, with their Leader, 
Have conquered in the fight, 

For ever and for ever 

Are clad in robes of white ! . 

And there the Sole-Begotten 

Is Lord in regal state ; 
He, Judah's mystic Lion, 

He, Lamb immaculate. 

O fields that know no sorrow ! 

O state that fears no strife ! 
O princely bowers ! O land of flowers ! 

O realm and home of life ! 

Exult, O dust and ashes ! 

The Lord shall be thy part : 
His only, His for ever. 

Thou shalt be and thou art ! 



Jesus, in mercy bring us 
Soon to that land of rest ; 

Who art, with God the Father, 
And Spirit, ever blest ! 



THE LIFE ABOVE, THE LIFE ON HIGH. 649 

THE LIFE ABOVE, THE LIFE ON HIGH. 

( Vivo si'u vivir e7i mi?) 



Part of a post-communion hymn of St. Teresa, of Spain (d. 1582), one of the 
greatest saints of the Roman-Catholic Church. Translated by E. Caswall. (From 
Shipley's Lyra Eucharistica, p. 201.) This poem is not free from a morbid aceti- 
cism, which, like the extravagant passion of Ignatius for martyrdom, differs w-idely 
from the calm resignation of the healthy Christian life, as exhibited in St. Paul, Phil, 
ii. 21-26 ; yet it is full of burning love to Christ, and represents a phase of Christian 
experience, in favorable contrast to the secularized Christianity of the day, which feels 
too much at home in this world. 



^ I ^HE Life above, the Life on high, 
■^ Alone is Life in verity ; 
Nor can we Life at all enjoy? 

Till this poor life is o'er ; 
Then, O sweet Death ! no longer fly 
From me, who, ere my time to die. 
Am dying evermore ; 
For evermore I weep and sigh, 
Dying, because I do not die. 

To Him, who deigns in me to live, 
What better gift have I to give, 
O my poor earthh^ life, than thee? 

Too glad of thy decay. 

So but I may the sooner see 

That Face of sweetest majesty, 

For which I pine away ; 

While evermore I weep and sigh, 

Dying, because I do not die. 



650 FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

Absent from Thee, my Saviour dear, 
I call not Life this living here. 
But a long dying agony. 

The sharpest I have known ; 
And I myself, myself to see 
In such a rack of misery. 
For very pity moan ; 
And ever, ever weep and sigh, 
Dying, because I do not die. 

Ah ! Lord, my Light and living Breath, 
Take me, oh, take me from this death. 
And burst the bars that sever me 

From my true Life above ! 
Think how I die Thy Face to see. 
And cannot live away from Thee, 
O my eternal Love ! 
And ever, ever, weep and sigh. 
Dying, because I do not die. 

I weary of this endless strife ; 
I weary of this dying life. 

This living death, this heavy chain. 

This torment of delay, 
In which her sins my soul detain. 
Ah ! when shall it be mine? Ah ! when, 
With my last breath to say, — 
No more I weep, no more I sigh ; 
I'm dying of desire to die. 



1 



LORD, IT BELONGS NOT TO MY CARE. 65 1 

LORD, IT BELONGS NOT TO MY CARE. 



Richard Baxter ; b. 1615, d. 1691 ; the model pastor of Kidderminster; author 
of the Sainfs Resi, and other excellent works. The following verses are taken from a 
longer poem, entitled: " The Covenant and Confidence of Faith " (see Rogers, p. 47). 
They form a Protestant pendant to the preceding poem of Saint Teresa. 



T ORD, it belongs not to my care 
"^^ Whether I die or live ; 
To love and serve Thee is my share, 
And this Thy grace must give. 

If life be long, I will be glad. 

That I may long obey ; 
If short, yet why should I be sad, 

That shall have the same pay?^ 

Christ leads me through no darker rooms 

Than He went through before ; 
He that unto God's kingdom comes 

Must enter by this door.^ 

Come, Lord, when grace has made me meet 

Thy blessed face to see ; 
For if Thy work on earth be sweet, 

What will Thy glory be ! 

1 Improved in the Andover Sabbath Hy?nn-Book, No. 763 : — 

" To soar to endless day ? " 

2 Andover Sabbath Hymn-Book : — 

" No one into His kingdom comes 
But through His opened door." 



^ 


D 


<• 


-N 






~ "~"3 


c 


652 FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

Then shall I end my sad complaints, 
And weary, sinful days, 

And join with the triumphant saints 
To sing Jehovah's praise. 

My knowledge of that life is small, 
The eye of faith is dim ; 

But it's enough that Christ knows all, 
And I shall be with Him. 




u 




THOU SHALT RISE! 








{Auferstehn, ja anfersteJui tvirst duS) 








Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock (the German Milton, though not quite equal to 
him in genius) ; b. 1724 ; d., at Hamburg, 1803. Translated in Hyinns from the Land 
of Luther, slightly altered by the Editor, according to the original. A closer version 
in Baskekville's Poetry of Germany: "Arise, yes, yes, arise, thou my dust, 
From short repose thou must." 






' 1 'HOU shalt rise ! my dust, thou shalt arise ! 
-^ Not always closed thine eyes : 
Thy life's first Giver 
Will give thee life for ever. 
Hallelujah ! 




A 


Sown in darkness, but to bloom again, 
When, after winter's reign, 

Jesus is reaping 

The seed now quietly sleeping. 
Hallelujah ! 




t 




1 


" J) 


^ 


^ 


" 1 


ba 



K 



ASLEEP IN JESUS. 653 

Day of praise ! for thee, thou wondrous day, 

In my quiet grave I stay ; 

And, when I number 
My days and nights of slumber, 
Thou wakest me ! 

Then, as they who dream, we shall arise 
With Jesus to the skies. 

And find that morrow. 

The weary pilgrim's sorrow, 
All past and gone ! 

Then shall I the Holy of Holiest tread, 
By my Redeemer led. 

Through heaven soaring. 

His holy name adoring 
Eternally ! 

ASLEEP IN JESUS. 



Mrs. Margaret Mackay. This popular lyric appeared first in The A meihyst, 
at Edinburgh, 1832. Rogers, p. 389. 



A SLEEP in Jesus ! blessed sleep, 
-^^ From which none ever wakes to weep, 
A calm and undisturbed repose. 
Unbroken by the last of foes ! 

Asleep in Jesus I oh, how sweet 

To be for such a slumber meet ! 

With holy confidence to sing 

That death hath lost his venomed sting. 



g 



654 FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

Asleep in Jesus ! peaceful rest, 
Whose waking is supremely blest ; 
No fear, no woe, shall dim that hour, 
That manifests the Saviour's power. 

Asleep in Jesus ! oh for me 
May such a blissful refuge be ; 
Securely shall my ashes lie, 
Waiting the summons from on high ! 

Asleep in Jesus ! time nor space 
Debars this precious "hiding-place ; " 
On Indian plains, or Lapland snows, 
Believers find the same repose. 

Asleep in Jesus ! far from thee 
Thy kindred and their graves may be ; 
But thine is still a blessed sleep. 
From which none ever wakes to weep ! 



LET ME BE WITH THEE. 



Miss Charlotte Elliott. 1836. Compare John xvii. 24. 



T ET me be with Thee where Thou art, 
-■"-^ My Saviour, my eternal Rest ! 
Then only will this longing heart 
Be fully and for ever blest ! 



WE SPEAK OF THE REALMS. 655 

Let me be with Thee where Thou art, 

Thy unveiled glor}^ to behold ; 
Then only will this wandering heart 

Cease to be treacherous, faithless, cold! 

Let me be with Thee where Thou art. 
Where spotless saints Thy Name adore ; 

Then only will this sinful heart 
Be evil and defiled no more ! 

Let me be with Thee where Thou art. 

Where none can die, where none remove ; 

There neither death nor life will part 
Me from Thy presence and Thy love ! 



WE SPEAK OF THE REALMS. 



Anonymous. Often ascribed to a Mrs. Wilson. 1837. Rogers, p. 633. 



"XT 7"E speak of the realms of the blessed, 
^ ^ Of that country so bright and so fair. 
And oft are its glories confessed ; 
But what must it be to be there? 

We speak of its pathways of gold. 

Of its walls decked with jewels so rare, 

Of its wonders and treasures untold ; 
But what must it be to be there? 



656 FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

We speak of its freedom from sin, 
From sorrow, temptation, and care, 

From trials without and within ; 
But what must it be to be there? 

We speak of its service of love. 

Of the robes which the glorified wear. 

The Church of the first-born above ; 
But what must it be to be there? 

Do Thou, Lord, midst pleasure and woe. 
Still for heaven my spirit prepare ; 

And shortly I also shall know 
And feel what it is to be there. 



4 



SINCE O'ER THY FOOTSTOOL. 



Rev. W. A. Muhlenberg, D.D. 1824. In the same year, he wrote his " I would 
notHvealway" ( Job vii. 16), which passed into the selection of hymns in the Epis- 
copal Prayer-Book, and has justly become a favorite in all American churches. If 
space would permit, I would give the revised and enlarged form of 1859. 



OINCE o'er Thy footstool here below 
^^ Such radiant gems are strewn, 
Oh, what magnificence must glow. 
My God, about Thy throne ! 
So brilliant here those drops of light, — 
There the full ocean rolls, how bright ! 

If night's blue curtain of the sky 
With thousand stars inwrought. 



OH, PARADISE MUST FAIRER BE ! 



657 



Hung like a royal canopy 

With glittering diamonds fraught, 
Be, Lord, Thy temple's outer veil. 
What splendor at the shrine must dwell ! 

The dazzling sun, at noontide hour. 

Forth from his flaming vase. 
Flinging o'er earth the golden shower. 
Till vale and mountain blaze, 
But shows, O Lord 1 one beam of Thine : 
What, then, the day where Thou dost shine I 

Ah ! how shall these dim eyes endure 

That noon of living rays, 
Or how my spirit so impure 
Upon Thy glory gaze? 
Anoint, O Lord ! anoint my sight,- 
And robe me for that world of light ! 



OH, PARADISE MUST FAIRER BE! 

(^Das Paradies muss schoner sein.') 



Friedrich RucKERT, 1789-1866. " Das Paradics." A free and abridged trans- 
lation, taken from Heavenward : Hynt7is and Poems of Consolation, New York, 1867, 
p. 184, where it is given without the name of the translator. This beautiful poem is 
true only on the basis of a vital union with Him who is the Resurrection and the Life. 



/^H, Paradise must fairer be 
^^ Than any spot below ! 
My spirit pines for liberty ; 
Now let me thither go ! 
42 



658 FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

In Paradise, for ever clear 

The stream of love is flowing ; 

For every tear that I've shed here 
A pearl therein is glowing. 

In Paradise alone is rest ; 

Joy breathing, woe dispelling ; 
A heavenly wind fans every breast 

Within that happy dwelling. 

For every wounding thorn below 
A rose shall blossom there ; 

And sweeter flowers than earth can show 
Shall twine around my hair. 

And every joy, that, budding, died. 

Shall open there in bloom ; 
And Spring, in all her flowery pride, 

Shall waken from the tomb. 

And all the joys shall meet me there 
For which my heart was pining. 

Like golden fruit in gardens fair. 
And flowers for ever shining. 



My youth, that fled so soon away. 

And left me sad, decaying. 
Shall there be with me every day 

With bright wings round me playing. 



659 



All hopes, all wishes, all the love 
I sighed for, pined for, ever, 

Shall bloom around me there above, 
And last with me for ever ! 



O PARADISE! O PARADISE! 



F. W. Faber, D.D. ; boru 1815. From the last edition of his Hyiniis, London, 
1862, p. 423. The last two verses are omitted, and the third has been put last. Some 
British collections give only three stanzas. 



/^PARADISE! O Paradise I 
^^ Who doth not crave for rest? 
Who would not seek the happy land, 
Where they that loved are blest ; 
Where loyal hearts, and true. 

Stand ever in the light. 
All rapture through and through. 
In God's most holy sight? 

O Paradise ! O Paradise ! 

The world is growing old : 
Who would not be at rest and free 
Where love is never cold ; 
Where loyal hearts, and true. 

Stand ever in the light. 
All rapture through and through, 
In God's most holy sight? 



66o FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

Paradise ! O Paradise ! 
'Tis weary waiting here : 

1 long to be where Jesus is, 

To feel, to see Him near ; 

Where loyal hearts, and true, 

Stand ever in the light. 
All rapture through and through, 

In God's most holy sight. 

Paradise ! O Paradise ! 
I want to sin no more ; 

1 want to be as pure on earth 
As on thy spotless shore ; 

Where loyal hearts, and true. 
Stand ever in the light, 

All rapture through and through, 
In God's most holy sight. 

O Paradise ! O Paradise ! 

Wherefore doth death delay? — 
Bright death, that is the welcome dawn 
Of our eternal day ; 

Where loyal hearts, and true. 

Stand ever in the light. 
All rapture through and through, 
In God's most holy sight. 



NO, NO, IT IS NOT DYING. 



66l 



NO, NO, IT IS NOT DYING. 



{Non, cen'est pas moiirir.') 



From the French of the Rev. Dr. C^sar Malan ; b. 1785; d. 1864; pastor of an 
Independent Reformed Church at Geneva ; a man of genius and striking individual- 
ity; author of C/iants de Siojt, ou Recneil de Caiitiques, Paris, 1841 (No. 233). The 
following excellent translation was made by the Rev. Dr. R. P. Duxn^ late professor 
of rhetoric and English literature in Brown University, Providence, R.I. (d. Aug. 28, 
1867), not directly from the French, but from an admirable German version of 
A. Knapp: "Nein, nein, das ist kein Sterben" (in Schaff's G. H. B., No. 464). 



l^rO, no, it is not dying, 
To go unto our God ; 
This gloomy earth forsaking. 
Our journey homeward taking 
Along the starry road. 

No, no, it is not dying. 
Heaven's citizen to be ; 
A crown immortal w^earing. 
And rest unbroken sharing, 
From care and conflict free. 



No, no, it is not dying. 
To hear this gracious w^ord 
" Receive a Father's blessing, 
For evermore possessing 
The favor of thy Lord." 



662 FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

No, no, it is not dying. 
The Shepherd's voice to know ; 
His sheep He ever leadeth, 
His peaceful flock He feedeth. 
Where living pastures grow. 

No, no, it is not dying. 
To wear a lordly crown ; 
Among God's people dwelling. 
The glorious triumph swelling. 
Of Him whose sway we own. 

Oh, no, this is not dying, 
Thou Saviour of mankind ! 
There streams of love are flowing, 
No hindrance ever knowing ; 
Here drops alone we find. 



IT IS NOT DEATH TO DIE. 

{^Non^ ce n' est pas mourir.^ 



Free, from the French of Dr. Malan (see the preceding hymn), by Dr. George 
W. Bethune {Lays of Love and Faith, Phila. 1847). This hymn was sung, by his 
own direction, at Bethune's funeral, in New York, Sept., 1862. 



TT is not death to die. 

To leave this weary road. 
And, 'midst the brotherhood on high. 
To be at home with God. 



O SWEET HOME -ECHO ! 66^ 

It is not death to close 

The eye long dimmed by tears, 
And wake in glorious repose, 

To spend eternal years. 

It is not death to bear 

The wrench that sets us free 
From dungeon-chain, to breathe the air 

Of boundless liberty. 

It is not death to fling 

Aside this sinful dust, 
And rise, on strong, exulting wing. 

To live among the just. 

Jesus, Thou Prince of Life ! 

Thy chosen cannot die ! 
Like Thee, they conquer in the strife. 

To reign with Thee on high. 



O SWEET HOME-ECHO! 

(" Wt'r vjerden bei dem Het'rn seiii allezeit") 



" And so shall we ever be with the Lord." — i Thess. iv. 17. By Mi-s. Dr. Meta 
Heusser-Schweizer, the sweet evangehcal singer of Switzerland; b. 1797; residing 
at Hirzel, Canton Zurich. Written, 1845, for a friend in America. Translated in 
Hym7is frovi the Land of Luther. 



o 



SWEET home-echo on the pilgrim's way. 
Thrice welcome message from a land of light ! 



664 FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

As through a clouded sky the moonbeams stray, 
So on eternity's deep shrouded night 

Streams a mild radiance, from that cheering word : 
"So shall we be for ever with the Lord." 

At home with Jesus? He who went before, 
For His own people mansions to prepare ; 

The soul's deep longings stilled, its conflicts o'er, 
All rest and blessedness with Jesus there. 

What home like this can the wide earth afford? 
"So shall we be for ever with the Lord." 

With Him all gathered ! to that blessed home. 
Through all its windings, still the pathway tends ; 

While ever and anon bright glimpses come 
Of that fair city where the journey ends. 

Where all of bliss is centred in one word : 
"So shall we be for ever with the Lord." 

Here, kindred hearts are severed far and wide, 
By many a weary mile of land and sea, 

Or life's all-varied cares and paths divide ; 
But yet a joyful gathering shall be, 

The broken links repaired, the lost restored, 
"So shall we be for ever with the Lord." 

And is there ever perfect union here ? 

Ah ! daily sins, lamented and confessed. 
They come between us and the friends most dear, 

They mar our blessedness and break our rest. 



THERE IS A BLESSED HOME. 665 

With life we leave the evils long deplored : 
"So shall we be for ever with the Lord." 

All prone to error, none set wholly free 

From the old serpent's soul-ensnaring chain, 

The truths one child of God can clearly see. 
He seeks to make his brother feel in vain ; 

But all shall harmonize in heaven's full chord ; 
" So shall we be for ever with the Lord." 

O blessed promise ! mercifully given, 

Well may it hush the wail of earthly woe ; 

O'er the dark passage to the gates of heaven 
The light of hope and resurrection throw ! 

Thanks for the blessed, life-inspiring word : 
"So shall we be for ever with the Lord." 



THERE IS A BLESSED HOME. 



Rev. Sir Henry Williams Baker, Bart. 1S61. Bom, in London, 1821 ; son of 
a vice-admiral in the Royal Navy ; graduated at Cambridge, 1844 ; vicar of Monkland ; 
one of the editors of Hymns A ncieni attd Modern, to which the following piece was 
contributed (No. 182). 



^HERE is a blessed home 
•^ Beyond this land of woe, 
Where trials never come, 

Nor tears of sorrow flow ; 
Where faith is lost in sight, 

And patient hope is crowned, 



666 FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

And everlasting light 
Its glory throws around. 

There is a land of peace, 

Good angels know it well ; 
Glad songs that never cease 

Within its portals swell ; 
Around its glorious throne 

Ten thousand saints adore 
Christ, with the Father One, 

And Spirit, evermore. 

O joy all joys beyond. 

To see the Lamb who died. 
And count each sacred wound 

In hands and feet and side ! 
To give to Him the praise 

Of every triumph won, 
And sing through endless days 

The great things He hath done. 

Look up, ye saints of God, 

Nor fear to tread below 
The path your Saviour trod 

Of daily toil and woe ; 
Wait but a little while 

In uncomplaining love. 
His own most gracious smile 

Shall welcome you above. 






STAR OF MORN AND EVEN. 667 



STAR OF MORN AND EVEN. 

uucov uepo(pOLTav 
'Aarepa fzeivafiev 'AeMov "Asvuo-repvya Tvpodpofiov. 



"The Daystar." By Francis Turner Palgrave, late Scholar of Balliol, and 
Fellow of Exeter College, Oxford. 1862. From his Hymtis, 2d ed. 1868. 



OTAR of morn and even, 
^^ Sun of Heaven's heaven, 
Saviour high and dear, 
Toward us turn Thine ear ; 
Through whate'er may come. 
Thou canst lead us home. 

Though the gloom be grievous. 
Those we leant on leave us. 
Though the coward heart 
Quit its proper part, 
Though the tempter come, 
Thou wilt lead us home. 

Saviour pure and holy. 

Lover of the lowly. 

Sign us with Thy sign, 
Take our hands in Thine ; 
Take our hands and come. 
Lead Thy children home I 



668 FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

Star of morn and even, 
Shine on us from Heaven ; 
From Thy glory-throne 
Hear Thy very own ! 
Lord and Saviour, come, 
Lead us to our home ! 



O HEAVEN! SWEET HEAVEN! 



Rev. Edwin H. Nevin ; b. 1814, at Shippensburg, Pa.; pastor of St. Paul's 
German Reformed Church, Lancaster, Pa. (since 1868). The following hymn, as the 
author kindly informs us, was written and first printed in 1862, after the death of a 
beloved son, which made heaven nearer and dearer from the conviction that now a 
member of his family was one of its inhabitants. 



/^ HEAVEN ! Sweet Heaven ! the home of the 
^^ blest. 

Where hearts once in trouble are ever at rest ; 
Where eyes that could see not rejoice in the light. 
And beggars made princes are walking in white. 

O Heaven ! Sweet Heaven ! the mansion of love. 
Where Christ in His beauty shines forth from above. 
The Lamb with His sceptre, to charm and control. 
And love is the sea that encircles the whole. 

O Heaven ! Sweet Heaven ! where purity reigns, 
Where error disturbs, and sin never stains ; 
Where holiness robes in its garments so fair 
The great multitude that is worshipping there. 



OH FOR THE ROBES OF WHITENESS ! 669 

O Heaven ! Sweet Heaven ! where music ne'er dies, 
But rich pealing anthems of glory arise ; 
Where saints with one feeling of rapture are stirred, 
And loud hallelujahs for ever are heard. 

O Heaven ! Sweet Heaven ! where friends never part, 
But cords of true friendship bind firmly the heart ; 
Where farewell shall nevermore fall on the ear. 
Nor eyes that have sorrowed be dimmed with a tear. 



OH FOR THE ROBES OF WHITENESS! 



Charitie Lees Smith, daughter of the Rev. Sidney Smith, D.D., rector of Agha- 
lurcher, Ireland. This hymn, entitled " Heavenly Anticipations," is a favorite in 
Sunday schools in England. From Rogers's Lyra Brit., 1867, p. 511. 



/^H for the robes of whiteness ! 
^^ Oh for the tearless eyes ! 
Oh for the glorious brightness 
Of the unclouded skies ! 

Oh for the no more weeping 
Within the land of love, 

The endless joy of keeping 
The bridal feast above ! 



Oh for the bliss of dying. 
My risen Lord to meet ! 

Oh for the rest of lying 
For ever at His feet ! 



670 FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 

Oh for the hour of seeing 
My Saviour face to face, 

The hope of ever being 

In that sweet meeting-place ! 

Jesus, Thou King of glory, 
I soon shall dwell with Thee ; 

I soon shall sing the story 
Of Thy great love to me. 

Meanwhile my thoughts shall enter, 
E'en now, before Thy throne, 

That all my love may centre 
On Thee, and Thee alone. 



OH FOR THE PEACE WHICH FLOWETH ! 



"What is this that He saith, A little while?" — J^Aw xvi. 18. By Mrs. Jane 
Crewdson (daughter of George Fox); b. 1809; d., 1863, near Manchester, alter a long 
period of illness, during which she wrote her poems, breathing the rich flavor of sancti- 
fied affliction. 



^^H for the peace which floweth as a river, 
^^ Making life's desert places bloom and smile ! 
Oh for the faith to grasp heaven's bright "for ever," 
Amid the shadows of earth's " little while " ! 

"A little while," for patient vigil-keeping. 
To face the stern, to wrestle with the strong ; 

"A little while," to sow the seed with weeping. 
Then bind the sheaves, and sing the harvest-song. 



OH FOR THE PEACE WHICH FLOWETH ! 6^1 

"A little while," to wear the weeds of sadness, 
To pace with weary step through miry ways ; 

Then to pour forth the fragrant oil of gladness, 
And clasp the girdle round the robe of praise. 

"A little while," 'midst shadow and illusion. 
To strive, by faith, love's mysteries to spell ; 

Then read each dark enigma's bright solution, 
Then hail sight's verdict, "He doth all things well." 

"A little while," the earthen pitcher taking 

To wayside brooks, from far-off fountains fed; 

Then the cool lip its thirst for ever slaking 
Beside the fulness of the Fountain Head. 

"A little while," to keep the oil from failing, 
"A little while," faith's flickering lamp to trim ; 

And then, the Bridegroom's coming footsteps hailing. 
To haste to meet Him with the bridal hymn. 

And He, who is Himself the Gift and Giver, 
The future glory and the present smile. 

With the bright promise of the glad "for ever" 
Will hght the shadows of the "little while." 



c: 



672 FOR EVER WITH CHRIST. 



WE SHALL SEE HIM IN OUR NATURE. 



Selected from a longer poem, of unknown authorship. 1868. " We shall see Him 
as He is." — i John iii. 2. 



TT 7"E shall see Him," in our nature, 

^ ^ Seated on His lofty Throne, 

Loved, adored, by every creature. 

Owned as God, and God alone ! 

There the hosts of shining spirits 
. Strike their harps, and loudly sing 
To the praise of Jesus' merits. 
To the glory of their King. 

When we pass o'er death's dark river, 
"We shall see Him as He is," 

Resting in His love and favor, 
Owning all the glory His. 

There to cast our crowns before Him, 
Oh, what bliss the thought affords ! 

There for ever to adore Him, 

King of kings and Lord of lords ! 



PRAISE AND ADORATION OF CHRIST. 



" My Lord and my God." — John xx. 28. 

"That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven and 
things in earth and things under the earth." — Phil. ii. 10. 

" Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and 
strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing." — Rev. v. 12. 

OLORD JESUS CHRIST, in whom the whole fulness of the 
Godhead and Manhood, without sin, dwelleth in one Person 
for ever, who, for us men and for our salvation, didst die and rise 
again, and now sittest at the right hand of the Father Almighty, 
as our Prophet, Priest, and King, able and willing to save to the 
uttermost all that come unto God by Thee : — Thou art worthy to 
receive the grateful homage of all ages and creeds and tongues ; 
and with the glorious company of the apostles, with the goodly 
fellowship of' the prophets, with the noble army of martyrs, 
with the holy Church throughout all the world, with the heavenly 
Jerusalem, the joyful assembly of the first-born on high, with the 
innumerable host of angels around Thy throne, the heaven of 
heavens, and all the powers therein, we worship and adore Thy 
glorious name, saying, with a loud voice : Blessing and honor 
and glory and power be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, 
and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever ! Amen. 

" Lauda, Sion, Salvatorem, 
Lauda Ducem et Pastorem 
In hymnis et canticis ; 

Quantum vales, tantum aude, ■ 

Quia major omni laude. 
Nee laudare sufficis." 



'To Him who loved the souls of men, 

And washed us in His blood. 
To royal honors raised our head, 
And made us priests to God, — 



To Him let every tongue be praise, 
And every heart be love ; 

All grateful honors paid on earth, 
And nobler songs above ! 



Thou art the First, and Thou the Last 
'J'ime centres all in Thee, — 

The mighty Lord, who was, and is. 
And evermore shall be ! " 

43 




fl 



PRAISE AND ADORATION OF 
CHRIST. 



SHEPHERD OF TENDER YOUTH. 

['Etojj.iov ttcj'Xuv uSauv.) 



A free transfusion, by an unknown author, of the oldest Christian hymn extant 
(next to the Gloria in Excelsis), composed by Clement of Alexandria, about a.d. 200. 
A sublime but somewhat turgid song of praise to the Logos, as the divine Educator 
and Leader of the human race. The Greek in the works of Clement (at the close of 
his Pcedagogice, p. 311, ed. Potter), and in Daniel, III. p. 3. German versions by 
Miinter, Dorner, Hagenbach, Fortlage ; closer English versions by Mrs. Charles, 
and in the Ante-Niceite Christian Library, Vol. V. p. 343. A very learned article on 
the contents and structure of this hymn, by Prof Piper, in his Evangel. Kalender, 
for 1868, pp. 17-39. 



OHEPHERD of tender youth, 
^^ Guiding in love and truth 

Through devious w^ays ; 
Christ, our triumphant King, 
We come Thy name to sing, 
And here our children bring 

To shout Thy praise ! 



Thou art our Holy Lord, 
The all-subduing Word, 
Healer of strife ! 



c: 



676 PRAISE AND ADORATION OF CHRIST. 

Thou didst Thyself abase, 
That from sin's deep disgrace 
Thou mightest save our race, 
And give us life. 

Thou art the great High Priest ; 
Thou hast prepared the feast 

Of heavenly love. 
While in our mortal pain, 
None calls on Thee in vain ; 
Help Thou dost not disdain, 

Help from above. 

Ever be Thou our Guide, 
Our Shepherd, and our Pride, 

Our Staff and Song ! 
Jesus, Thou Christ of God, 
By Thy perennial word 
Lead us where Thou hast trod, 

Make our faith strong. 

So now, ^nd till we die, 
Sound we Thy praises high. 

And joyful sing ! 
Let all the holy throng 
Who to Thy Church belong, 
Unite and swell the song 

To Christ our King ! 



u 



THEE WE ADORE, ETERNAL LORD ! 677 



THEE WE ADORE, ETERNAL LORD! 



Part of Te Deum Laudamus (400), adapted to Christ. Anonymous [1842], 
Slightly altered. Compare Sir R. Palmer, No. V. 



'T^HEE we adore, eternal Lord ! 

-^ We praise Thy Name with one accord ; 
Thy saints, who here Thy goodness see. 
Through all the world do worship Thee. 

To Thee aloud all angels cry. 

And ceaseless raise their songs on high ; 

Both cherubim and seraphim. 

The heavens and all the powers therein. 

The apostles join the glorious throng ; 
The prophets swell the immortal song ; 
The martyrs' noble army raise 
Eternal anthems to Thy praise. 

Thee, holy Prophet, Priest, and King ! 
Thee, Saviour of mankind, they sing : 
Thus earth below, and heaven above, 
Resound Thy glory and Thy love. 



678 PRAISE AND ADORATION OF CHRIST. 

I GREET THEE. 

(^Je Te salue, mon certain Redem^teur.^ 



"Salutation to Jesus Christ." By John Calvin, the great Reformer; b. 1509; 
d., at Geneva, 1564. This hymn, together with eleven others (mostly translations of 
Psalms), written in French, was recently discovered by Felix Bovet, of .Neuchatel, 
in an old Genevese prayer-book, and first published in the sixth volume of the new 
edition of the works of Calvin by Baum, Cunitz, and Reuss, 1868. It reveals a poetic 
vein, and a devotional fervor and tenderness, which one would hardly have suspected 
in the severe logician. (His Epinicion Christo cantahan, a.d. 1537, is not devo- 
tional, but a controversial poem against popery.) German translation by Dr. Stahelin, 
Jr., of Basel (author of the best biography of Calvin). English translation by Mrs. 
Prof. H. B. Smith, of New York, 1S68. Contributed. 



I 



GREET Thee, who my sure Redeemer art, 
True Bridegroom and sole Saviour of my heart ! 

Who so much toil and woe 

And pain didst undergo. 
For my poor, worthless sake ; 

And pray Thee, from our hearts, 

All idle griefs and smarts. 
And foolish cares to take.^ 

1 We give the first stanza in the original old French : — 

" Je Te salue, mon certain Redempteur, 
Ma vraye fianc' et mon seul Salvateur, 

Qui tant de labeur, 

D'ennuys et de douleur 
As endure pour moy : 

Oste de noz cueurs 

Toutes vaines langueurs, 
Fol soucy et es moy." 



I GREET THEE. 679 

Thou art the King of mercy and of grace, 
Reigning omnipotent in every place ; 
So come, O King! and deign 
Within bur hearts to reign, 
And our whole being sway ; 
Shine in us by Thy light. 
And lead us to the height 
Of Thy pure, heavenly day. 

Thou art the Life by which alone we hve. 
And all our substance and our strength receive : 
Comfort us by Thy faith 
Against the pains of death ; 
Sustain us by Thy power ; 
Let not our fears prevail. 
Nor our hearts faint or fail. 
When comes the trying hour. 

Thou art the true and perfect gendeness. 
No harshness hast Thou, and no bitterness : 
Make us to taste and prove. 
Make us adore and love 
The sweet grace found in Thee ; 
With longing to abide 
Ever at Thy dear side. 
In Thy sweet unity. 

Our hope is in no other save in Thee, 
Our faith is built upon Thy promise free ; 

Come, and our hope increase. 

Comfort and give us peace. 



68o PRAISE AND ADORATION OF CHRIST. 

Make US so strong and sure, 
That we shall conquerors be, 
And well and patiently 

Shall every ill endure. 

Poor, banished exiles, wretched sons of Eve, 
Full of all sorrows, unto Thee we grieve ! 
To Thee we bring our sighs. 
Our groanings, and our cries : 
Thy pity. Lord, we crave ; 
We take the sinner's place. 
And pray Thee, of Thy grace. 
To pardon and to save. 

Turn Thy sweet eyes upon our low estate. 
Our Mediator and our Advocate, 
Propitiator best ! 
Give us that vision blest. 
The God of gods most High ! 
And let us, by Thy right. 
Enter the blessed light 
And glories of the sky ! 

Oh, pitiful and gracious as Thou art, 
The lovely Bridegroom of the holy heart. 
Lord Jesus Christ, meet Thou 
The Antichrist our foe. 
In all his cruel ruth ! 

Thy Spirit give, that we 
Ma}^ in true verity, 
Follow Thy word of truth. 



COME, LET US JOIN. 68 1 



COME, LET US JOIN. 



Isaac Watts. 1709. " Christ Jesus, the Lamb of God, worshipped by all the 
creation." Rev. v. 11-13. I reluctantly omit, from want of space, his "Join all the 
glorious names " (twelve stanzas). 



/^"^OME, let us join our cheerful songs 
^^ With angels round the throne ; 
Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, 
But all their joys are one. 

"Worthy the Lamb that died," they cry, 

'' To be exalted thus ! " 
" Worth}^ the Lamb ! " our lips reply, 

"For He was slain for us." 

Jesus is worthy to receive 

Honor and power divine ; 
And blessings more than we can give, 

Be, Lord, for ever Thine ! 

Let all that dwell above the sky. 

And air and earth and seas. 
Conspire to lift Thy glories high, 

And speak Thine endless praise. 

The whole creation join in one. 

To bless the sacred name 
Of Him who sits upon the throne, 

And to adore the Lamb ! 



682 PRAISE AND ADORATION OF CHRIST. 

O FOR A THOUSAND TONGUES! 



Charles Wesley. 1740. Based on Isa. xii. 2 ; xxxv. 5, 6 ; xlv. 22 ; John i. 29 ; 
Matt. xi. 5 ; xxiv. 14. Originally eighteen verses. The last four are generally omitted 
in hymn-books, also in Sir R. Palmer's Book of Praise. Rogers gives eight, 
Palmer only five, verses. 

(~\ FOR a thousand tongues to sing 
^-^ My great Redeemer's praise ! 
The glories of my God and King, 
The triumphs of His grace ! 

My gracious Master and my God, 

Assist me to proclaim, 
To spread through all the earth abroad, 

The honors of Thy name. 

Jesus ! the name that charms^ our fears. 

That bids our sorrows cease ; 
'Tis music in the sinner's ears ; 

'Tis life and health and peace ! 

He breaks the power of cancelled sin ;2 

He sets the prisoner free ; 
His blood can make the foulest clean ; 

His blood availed for me. 

He speaks ; and, listening to His voice. 

New life the dead receive ; 
The mournful, broken hearts rejoice ; 

The humble poor believe. 

1 Popular collections substitute : '■'■ calms" 

2 Usually changed into '■'- reigning %\n" 



O FOR A THOUSAND TONGUES 



683 



Hear Him, ye deaf! His praise, ye dumb, 
Your loosened tongues employ ! 

Ye blind, behold your Saviour come ; 
And leap, ye lame, for joy ! 

Look unto Him, ye nations ! own 

Your God, ye fallen race I 
Look, and be saved through faith alone. 

Be justified by grace ! 

See all your sins on Jesus laid : 

The Lamb of God was slain : 
His soul was once an offering made 

For every soul of man. 

Awake from guilty nature's sleep, 
And Christ shall give you light ; 

Cast all your sins into the deep. 
And w^ash the Ethiop white. 



With Me, your chief, ye then shall know. 
Shall feel, your sins forgiven ; 

Anticipate your heaven below. 
And own that love is heaven. 



684 PRAISE AND ADORATION OF CHRIST. 



AWAKE, AND SING THE SONG. 



William Hammond, a Calvinistic-Methodist preacher, afterwards a Moravian ; 
d. 1783, at Chelsea. His Psaims, Hymns, a7id Spiritual So?igs were published at 
London, 1745. Abridged. By condensation, this fine but somewhat repetitious hymn 
is made more effective. Palmer gives Madan's variation of 1760 (eight verses). 



A WAKE, and sing the song 
-^^^ Of Moses and the Lamb ; 
Tune every heart and every tongue, 
To praise the Saviour's name. 

Sing of His dying love ; 

Sing of His rising power ; 
Sing how He intercedes above 

For those whose sins He bore. 

Tell, in seraphic strains, 

What Christ has done for you ; 

How He has taken off your chains, 
And formed your hearts anew. 

Are you in deep distress ? 

Then sing to ease the smart. 
Are you rejoiced? let psalms express 

The gladness of your heart. 

When Paul and Silas sung. 
The earth began to quake ; 

The prison doors were open flung, 
Her firm foundations shake. 




HAIL, THOU ONCE DESPISED JESUS I 685 

Sing, till you feel 3^our hearts 

Ascending with your tongues ; 
Sing, till the love of sin departs, 

And grace inspires your songs. 

Sing on your heavenly way : 

Ye ransomed sinners, sing ! 
Sing on, rejoicing every day, 

In Christ the eternal King. 

Soon shall our raptured tongue 

In heaven His praise proclaim, 
And sweeter voices tune the song 

Of Moses and the Lamb. 



HAIL, THOU ONCE DESPISED JESUS! 



John Bakewell, b. 1721, d. 1819 ; a Wesleyan minister. His gravestone re- 
cords : " He adorned the doctrine of God our Saviour eighty years, and preached His 
glorious gospel about seventy years." The following hymn appeared first in Madan's 
Collection, in 1760: then in Toplady's Collection, in 1776, with an additional stanza, 
borrowed fi-om James Allen. We give the original text, from Rogers, p. 29. Sir R. 
Palmer follows Toplady's Collection. 



T TAIL, Thou once despised Jesus ! 
-^^ Hail, Thou Galilean King ! 
Who didst suffer to release us ; 

Who didst free salvation bring : 
Hail, Thou universal Saviour,^ 

Who hast borne our sin and shame ! 

1 Toplady's Collection and R. Palmer substitute '■'• ag07iizi7ig 
Saviour," which is certainly no improvement. 



686 PRAISE AND ADORATION OF CHRIST. 

By whose merits we find favor ; 
Life is given through Thy name. 

Paschal Lamb, by God appointed, 

All our sins were on Thee laid ; 
By almight}^ love appointed. 

Thou hast full atonement made : 
Every sin may be forgiven 

Through the virtue of Thy blood ; 
Opened is the gate of heaven ; 

Peace is made 'twixt man and God. 

Jesus, hail ! enthroned in glory, 

There for ever to abide ; 
All the heavenly hosts adore Thee, 

Seated at Thy Father's side : 
There for sinners Thou art pleading : 

" Spare them yet another year ; " ^ 
Thou for saints art interceding. 

Till in glory they appear. 

Worship, honor, power, and blessing, 

Christ is worthy to receive ; 
Loudest praises, without ceasing. 

Meet it is for us to give. 
Help, ye bright angelic spirits ! 

Bring your sweetest, noblest lays ! 
Help to sing our Jesu's merits ; 

Help to chant Immanuel's praise. 

1 Topladj's Collection and Palmer : — 

" There Thou doest our place prepare." 



NOW LET US JOIN. 



687 



NOW LET US JOIN. 



John Newton, 1779. From the Olney Hymns^ No. 39. Palmer omits verse 3. 



l^rOW let us join with hearts and tongues, 

^ And emulate the angels' songs ; 
Yea, sinners may address their King 
In songs that angels cannot sing. 

They praise the Lamb who once was slain ; 
But we can add a higher strain ; 
Not only say : " He suffered thus," 
But that " He suffered all for us." 

When angels by transgression fell. 
Justice consigned them all to hell ; 
But mercy formed a wondrous plan, 
To save and honor fallen man. 

Jesus, who passed the angels by. 
Assumed our flesh to bleed and die ; 
And still He makes it His abode : 
As Man He fills the throne of God. 

Our next of kin, our Brother now, 
Is He to whom the angels bow ; 
They join with us to praise His Name, 
And we the nearest interest claim. 



688 PRAISE AND ADORATION OF CHRIST. 

But ah ! how faint our praises rise ! 
Sure 'tis the wonder of the skies, 
That we, who share His richest love, 
So cold and unconcerned should prove. 

O glorious hour ! it comes with speed, 
When we, from sin and darkness freed. 
Shall see the God who died for man, 
And praise Him more than angels can. 



AWAKE, MY SOUL, IN JOYFUL LAYS. 



Samuel Medley, a Baptist minister at Liverpool, d. 1799; author of 232 hymns, 
which appeared in 1800. 

A WAKE, my soul, in joyful lays, 
■^^^ And sing thy great Redeemer's praise ; 
He justly claims a song from me ; 
His loving-kindness, O how free ! ^ 

He saw me ruined in the fall, 
Yet loved me notwithstanding all ; 
He saved me from my lost estate ; 
His loving-kindness, O how great ! 

When I was Satan's easy prey. 
And deep in debt and bondage lay, 
He paid His life for my discharge ; 
His loving-kindness, O how large ! 



AWAKE, MY SOUL, IN JOYFUL LAYS. 

Through mighty hosts of cruel foes, 
Where earth and hell my way oppose, 
He safely leads my soul along ; 
His loving-kindness, O how strong ! 

When earthly friends forsake me quite. 
And I have neither skill nor might. 
He's sure my helper to appear ; 
His loving-kindness, O how near ! 

Often I feel my sinful heart 
Prone from my Jesus to depart ; 
But though I have Him oft forgot. 
His loving-kindness changes not ! 

When I shall pass death's gloomy vale, 
And life and mortal powers must fail. 
Oh ! may my last expiring breath 
His loving-kindness sing in death. 

Then shall I mount and soar away 
To the bright world of endless day ; 
And sing with rapture and surprise 
His loving-kindness in the skies. 

There with their golden harps I'll join. 
And with their anthems mingle mine. 
And loudly sound on every chord 
The loving-kindness of my Lord. 
44 



690 PRAISE AND ADORATION OF CHRIST, 



HOSANNA TO THE LIVING LORD! 



Bishop Reginald Heber, of Calcutta. 1827. For Advent Sunday. The text 
from his Poetical Works, Lond. 1854, p. 42. 



TTOSANNA to the living Lord ! 
■^ ■*- Hosanna to the Incarnate Word ! 
To Christ, Creator, Saviour, King, 
Let earth, let heaven, Hosanna sing ! 

Hosanna, Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! 

Hosanna, Lord ! Thine angels cry ; 
Hosanna, Lord ! Thy saints reply ; 
Above, beneath us, and around. 
The dead and living swell the sound : 

Hosanna, Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! 

Oh, Saviour ! with protecting care, 
Return to this Thy house of prayer ; 
Assembled in Th}'- sacred Name, 
Where we Thy parting promise claim : 
Hosanna, Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! 

But, chiefest, in our cleansed breast. 
Eternal ! bid Thy Spirit rest ; 
And make our secret soul to be 
A temple pure, and worthy Thee : 

Hosanna, Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! 



THOU WHOM WE SEEK. 



691 



So, in the last and dreadful day, 
When earth and heaven shall melt away. 
Thy flock, redeemed from sinful stain, 
Shall swell the sound of praise again : 

Hosanna, Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! 



THOU WHOM WE SEEK. 

(^Du, den wir sucken auf so jinstern Wegen.^ 



" To the Invisible " (" An den Unsichtbaren "). A sonnet, by Ludwig Uhland, 
one of the purest, most patriotic, and most popular poets of Germany ; the head of the 
" Swabian School; " b. 1787, at Tubingen, where he lived in happy independence and 
modest retirement till his death, in 1862. Of his poems, which appeared first in 1S15, a 
new edition has been published, since 1833, almost every year. This sonnet, as also his 
Shepherd's Staiday Hymn and his Lost Church, reveal a genuine and deep religious 
feeling ; although it was not so fully developed in him as in his bosom friends and 
Swabian fellow-poets. Gustav Schwab and Justinus Kemer. Faithfully translated by 
Mrs. Elizabeth L. Smith, New York, 186S. Contributed. Another translation, 
by Samuel J. Pike, commences : — 

"Thou whom we seek in paths where shadows reign." 



'^ I ^HOU whom we seek in darkness, still unseen. 
And cannot with our searching thoughts em- 
brace, 
Once Thou didst leave the cloud which hides 
Thy face. 
Before Thy people walking forth serene. 

What sweet delight to gaze upon Thy mien. 
And listen to Thy words of truth and grace ! 
Oh, blessed they who at Thy board found place ! 

Oh, blessed he who on Thy breast did lean ! 



n 



692 PRAISE AND ADORATION OF CHRIST. 

Therefore not strange the longing, when the host 

Of countless pilgrims o'er the seas did press, 
And armies fought upon the farthest coast, 

Only to pray at Thy sepulchral bed, 

Only in pious fervency to kiss 
The holy soil on which Thy feet did tread ! 



TO HIM, WHO FOR OUR SINS, 



Arthur Tozer Russell. 1851. From R. Palmer's Book of Praise, No. LXVII. 



^ I ^O Him, who for our sins was slain, 
"^ To Him, for all His dying pain, 
Sing we Hallelujah ! 
To Him, the Lamb our sacrifice. 
Who gave His soul our ransom-price. 
Sing we Hallelujah ! 

To Him, who died that we might die 
To sin, and live with Him on high. 

Sing we Hallelujah I 
To Him, who rose that we might rise 
And reign with Him beyond the skies. 

Sing we Hallelujah ! 

To Him, who now for us doth plead 
And helpeth us in all our need, 

Sing we Hallelujah ! 



THOU THAT ART THE FATHER'S WORD. 693 

To Him, who doth prepare on high 
Our home in immortahty, 

Sing we Hallelujah ! 

To Him be glory evermore ; 

Ye heavenly hosts, your Lord adore ; 

Sing we Hallelujah ! 
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
One God most great, our joy and boast, 

Sing we Hallelujah ! 



THOU THAT ART THE FATHER'S WORD. 



Henry Alford, D.D., Dean of Canterbury ; b., at London, Oct. 7, 1810. 



n^HOU that art the Father's Word 
-*■ Thou that art the Lamb of God, 
Thou that art the Virgin's Son, 
Thou that savest souls undone, 
Sacred sacrifice for sin, 
Fount of piety within : 
Hail, Lord Jesus ! 

Thou to whom Thine angels raise 

Quiring songs of sweetest praise. 

Thou that art the flower and fruit. 

Virgin born from Jesse's root. 

Shedding holy peace abroad, 

Perfect man and perfect God : 

Hail, Lord Jesus 1 



694 PRAISE AND ADORATION OF CHRIST. 

Thou that art the door of heaven, 
Living bread in mercy given, 
Brightness of the Father's face. 
Everlasting Prince of Peace, 
Precious pearl beyond all price. 
Brightest star in all the skies : 
Hail, Lord Jesus ! 

King and Spouse of holy hearts. 
Fount of love that ne'er departs, 
Sweetest life and brightest day. 
Truest truth and surest way. 
That leads onward to the blest 
Sabbath of eternal rest : 
Hail, Lord Jesus ! 



PRAISE TO JESUS! 



William Ball ; bred to the bar ; residing near Rydal, Westmoreland ; a member 
of the Society of Friends; author of Hymns and Lyrics^ published, 1864, for private 
circulation. From Rogers's Lyra Brit., p. 645. 



pRAISE to Jesus 1 Praise to God 
-*■ For the love He sheds abroad. 
Lightening o'er a world of sin. 
Glowing in the heart within. 

For the pristine promise made 
E'en in Eden's darkened shade. 
For the light of sacrifice. 
Till the Morning Star should rise. 



PRAISE TO JESUS ! 

For the harp of prophecy, 
Singing of redemption nigh ; 
For the Branch of Jesse's stem ; 
For the birth at Bethlehem. 

For the sacred standard spread ; 
For the life our Pattern led ; 
For His precept pm-e and true ; 
For His doctrine, like the dew. 



695 



For His love's inviting call. 

All embracing, seeking all ; 

For the grace and truth He brought, 

For the ransom He hath wrought. 

For the crown of thorns He wore ; 
For the painful cross He bore ; 
For the dying word He said, 
Sealed with blood of sprinkling shed. 

*For the radiant rising dawn. 
For the sting of death withdrawn ; 
For the victory gained so well 
O'er the grave, and over hell. 

For His glorious reign on high. 
When He rose from Bethany ; 
For the heavenly peace He leaves ; 
For the Comforter He gives. 



696 PRAISE AND ADORATION OF CHRIST. 

For His parting promise dear 
Of His presence, alway near; 
For the blest assurance made 
Of His intercessory aid. 

For the pledge that we shall rise, 
In His likeness, to the skies ; 
For the merciful decree 
That our Friend our Judge shall be. 

All redeeming bounty gives ; 
All that humble faith receives ; 
All that rising doubt restrains ; 
All that drooping hope sustains, — 

Saviour ! these to Thee we owe. 
From Thy dying love they flow ; 
And we praise, for grace so free. 
Thee, Jehovah-Jesus, Thee ! 



THOU KING ANOINTED. 

(yRex Ckriste, Factor omnium?) 



A hymn to Christ the King, by the Rev. James Inglis, New York, 1868. Con- 
tributed. Suggested by a Latin hynm of Gregory the Great (590-604): " In pas- 
sione Domini" (al. " In coena Domini"), Daniel, I. p. 180. 



^ I ^HOU King anointed, at whose word 

•^ A world from nothing answ'ring came. 
The world, redeemed, shall own Thee Lord, 
And yield its honors to Thy name. 



THOU KING ANOINTED. 697 

To Thee, low-bending down Thine ear, 
The suppHant never pleads in vain, — 

Our lowl}" homage swift to hear, 

Though angels swell the rival strain. 

Eternal life flows from Thy wound : 

Grace, in Thy very weakness strong. 
Dissolves the tyrant's chains, which bound 

Our souls, to ruin dragged along. 
Each star is but another gem 

To garnish the Creator's crown ; 
Yet Thou, the Babe of Bethlehem, 

The humblest wilt a brother own ! 

Thy hand the secret influence wove 

That links in one things great and small ; 
Thy hands were fettered to remove 

The tangled net of Satan's thrall. 
Nailed to the cross. Thy piteous cry 

Scarce pierced the shout of hellish rage ; 
Thy whisper shakes the earth and sky ; 

Thy glance sheds darkness on the age. 

Almighty Victor ! from the height 

Of Thy paternal glory bend ; 
From dangers of the thick'ning night. 

Thy people, best of kings, defend. 
The darkness of the night dispel ; 

Reveal the splendors of Thy throne ; 
O'erthrow the reign of Death and Hell, 

And take the kingdoms for Thine own. 




698 PRAISE AND ADORATION OF CHRIST. 

GLORY BE TO GOD THE FATHER! 



HoRATius BoNAR, D.D. Hymtts of Faith and Hope, Third Series, i868. 



r^ LORY be to God the Father ! 
^^ Glory be to God the Son ! 

Glory be to God the Spirit ! 
Great Jehovah, Three in One ! 

Glory, glory, 
While eternal ages run ! 

Glory be to Him who loved us. 

Washed us from each spot and stain ! 

Glory be to Him who bought us, 
Made us kings with Him to reign ! 

Glory, glory 
To the Lamb that once was slain ! 

Glory to the King of angels ! 

Glory to the Church's King ! 
Glory to the King of nations I 

Heaven and earth your praises bring, 
Glory, glory 
To the King of glory bring ! 

Glory, blessing, praise eternal ! 

Thus the choir of angels sings ; 
Honor, riches, power, dominion ! 

Thus its praise creation brings ; 
Glory, glory. 

Glory to the King of kings ! 



e 



CHRIST THE THEME OF SONG IN ALL 
AGES. 



By Anson D. F. Randolph. Written for this Collection, as a finale, New York, 
September, 1868. 



OH, endless theme of never-ceasing song 
And music, wakened by supremest love ! 
How hath it broke from feeble lips and strong, 

The power divine, and matchless grace to prove : 
Christ Son of God, and Christ the Son of Man ; 

Christ on the Cross, and Christ in kingly Reign. 
So through the ages, since the song began. 

With swelling hosts, the saints repeat the strain. 

On hills and plains the Israelite only knew, 

On classic soil, on drifting desert sand, 
Where'er the Roman eagles swiftly flew. 

Or roamed abroad the fierce ungoverned band ; 
'Mong Jew and Gentile, as in wandering horde, 

Barbarian, Scythian, all, the bond or free, — 
There were who watched and waited for the Lord, 

And some who did His mighty wonders see. 

How from the warm and ever-ruddy East, 
Far to the rugged North and golden West, 

The knowledge of this wondrous Christ increased. 
With life and hope the dying nations blessed : 



700 CHRIST THE THEME OF SONG. 

Thence saints, exultant, onward bore His sign 
From land to land, and compassed every shore ; 

One Lord, one faith, one aim, one end divine. 
Their theme and song, their life for evermore ! 

Since holy women bowed their heads and wept. 

Where from the grave the angel rolled the stone, — 
That grave where He, the Son of God, had slept 

As Son of Man, in darkness and alone, — 
What countless names the world's applause have won ! 

What notes of praise have men to these inscribed ! 
How soon were they forgotten, one by one, 

And earth's poor honors to the dead denied ! 

Not mightiest kings the earth has ever seen, 

Nor time, nor powers men honored or abhorred. 
Could crush the memory of the Nazarene, 

Or shut the saints from presence of their Lord : 
In kingly courts, in prisons foul and damp. 

In scenes tumultuous, as in homes of peace, 
There, with His own, God's Angel would encamp, 

There rise the songs that nevermore shall cease ! 

Thus through the years of ages long ago. 

Thus in the changes of these latter days : 
One only Lord, our Lord, above, below, 

And He the object of our endless praise : 
This the same key-note of unnumbered lyres, 

This, too, th' unending song of sweet accord. 
O world ! ye have no theme that thus inspires : 

Ye still reject and crucify the Lord. 



CHRIST THE THEME OF SONG. 7OI 

In furnace-fires, on mountains drear and cold ; 

In peasant hut, as in the palace-hall. 
The story of His life for ever told, 

And His dear love the burning theme of all : 
From lips too weak aught human to express, 

From noble hearts that held the world at bay, 
What songs have risen, and what strains confess 

The blessed One whom I would praise to-day ! 

Christ Son of God, and Christ the Son of Man ; 

Christ on the Cross, and Christ in kingly Reign ! 
So sang the saints when first the song began, 

So shall it rise a never-ending strain. 
Come, Thou, and touch my lips, that I may sing ; 

Come, fill my heart with love to overflow : 
My Lord, my Life, I would some tribute bring, 

And tell the world how much to Thee I owe ! 





■^ 










-^ 






_w% 












d 


" 






"■ 


^^ 
















> 




GENERAL ALPHABETICAL LIST OF 






HYMNS. 










Page 




Page 






Abide with me ! fast falls the eventide 527 


Behold, where, in a mortal form . 


. 146 






A Child is born in Bethlehem . . 


50 


Beneath the shadow of the Cross . 


• 436 






A great and mighty wonder . . . 


39 


Bethlehem, of noblest cities . . . 


• "3 






A hymn of glory let us sing . . . 


305 


Blest morning, whose young . . . 


269 






A sinful man am I 


477 


Body of Jesus, sweet food . . 


• 595 






A star shines forth in heaven . . 


111 


Bound upon the accursed tree . . 


. 207 






Again the Lord of life and light 


281 


Bride of the Lamb, awake ! awake ! 


399 






Ah ! Jesus, let me hear Thy voice 


564 


Brief life is here our portion . . . 


643 






All hail the power of Jesus' name . 


326 


Brightest and best of the sons . . 


. 122 






All hail, thou night 


48 


By Christ redeemed, in Christ restored 598 






All my heart this night rejoices . . 


5S 










All praise to Thee, eternal Lord . 


53 


Carol, brothers, carol .... 


. 84 






All ye Gentile lands, awake . . . 


118 


Cease, ye tearful mourners . . . 


635 






Alone with Thee, alone with Thee-! 


524 


Chief of sinners though I be . . 


570 


• 




Amid life's wild commotion . . . 


533 


Christ, the Life of all the living . . 


■ 1S3 






Amid the darkness, when the storm 


486 


Christ the Lord is risen again . . 


259 






Angels, from the realms of glory . 


76 


Christ the Lord is risen to-day . . 


• 273 






Angels, roll the rock away . . . 


292 


Christ, Thou the champion . . . 


• 341 






Are there no wounds for me . . . 


223 


Christ, whose first appearance lighted 


123 






Art thou weary, art thou languid . 


452 


Chng to the Crucified . 


211 






Ask ye what great thing I know . 


209 


Come hither, ye faithful .... 


49 






Asleep in Jesus ! blessed sleep . . 


653 


Come, let us join our cheerful songs 


681 






As with gladness men of old . . . 


126 


Come, Lord, and tarrj' not . . . 


395 






At the cross her station keeping . 


169 


Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life 


135 






Awake, and sing the song . . . 


684 


Come to Calvary's holy mountain . 


202 






Awake, glad soul, awake ! awake ! 


294 


Come, wear\' souls, with sin distressec 


495 






Awake, my soul, in joyful lays . . 


688 


Come, ye faithful, raise the strain . 


243 






Awake, sweet harp of Judah, wake 


464 


Come, ye lofty ! come, ye lowly ! . 
Come, ye saints, look here and wondei 


86 
279 






Behold, the Bridegroom cometh . 


II 


Compared with Christ, in all beside 


618 






Behold, the day the Lord hath made 


249 


Conquering Prince and Lord of glory 


321 






Behold the glories of the Lamb . 


•34'^ 


Courage, my sorely tempted heart . 


455 




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704 GENERAL ALPHABETICAL LIST OF HYMNS. 



Page 

Day of judgment ! Day of wonders . 388 

Day of wrath ! O Day of mourn. ng . 376 

Day of wrath ! that Day foretold . . 372 
Dear Saviour ! we are Thine. See 

My Saviour ! / ajn. 

Dearest of all the names above . . . 42a 

Deck thyself, my soul, with gladness . 590 

Draw nigh, draw nigh, Emmanuel . 14 

Earth has nothing sweet or fair . . 136 

Ere yet the dawn has filled the skies . 263 

Ever would I fain be reading ; . . 141 

Exalt, exalt, the heavenly gates . . 306 

Faikest Lord Jesus 413 

Fierce was the wild billow .... 451 

Fling out the Banner ! let it float . . 203 

For thee, O dear, dear Country . . 645 

Forth flames the standard of our king 161 

From every stormy wind that blows . 466 

From lands that see the sun arise . . 45 

From where the rising sun goes forth 40 

Glorious Head, Thou livest now . . 272 

Glory be to God the Father .... 698 

God comes ; — and who shall stand . 365 

Good news from heaven 54 

Hail, Day of days ! in peals of praise 235 

Hail, infant martyrs 107 

Hail, kingly Jesus, to Thy feet . . . 130 
Hail the day that sees Him rise . .323 

Hail, thou Head! ........ 162 

Hail, Thou once despised Jesus . . 6S5 

Hallelujah! Hallelujah 248 

Hallelujah ! I believe 537 

Hark ! how all the welkin rings . . 66 

Hark, my soul ! it is Ure Lord . . . 425 

Hark 1 the glad sound 68 

Hark ! the voice of love and mercy . 19S 

Hark ! what mean those holy voices . 75 

Heart of Christ my King ! .... 410 

Heavenward doth our journey tend . 319 

He comes, no royal vesture wearing . 33 

He who on earth as man was known . 352 



He is gone ; beyond the skies . . 
Him on yonder cross I love . . . 
Holy Jesus, Fount of light . . . 
Hope of our hearts, O Lord ! appear 
Hosanua ! raise the pealing hymn 
Hosanna to the living Lord . . . 
Hosanna to the Prince of light . . 
How beauteous were the marks divine 
How lovely shines the Morning Star 
How sweet the name of Jesus sounds 
How wondrous are the works of God 

I BORE with thee long weary days 
I give my heart to Thee . . . 

I greet Thee 

I heard the voice of Jesus say . 
I know in whom I put my trust 
I lay my sins on Jesus .... 
I leave Thee not : Thou art my Jesus 
I need Thee, precious Jesus . . 
I once was a stranger .... 
I place an offering at Thy shrine 
I say to all men, far and near . 
I've found a joy in sorrow . . 
I was a wandering sheep . . . 
If only I have Thee .... 
If the dark and awful tomb . . 
In Bethlehem, the Lord of glory 
In memory of the Saviour's love 
In the bonds of Death He lay 
In the cross of Christ I glory 
In the hours of pain and sorrow 
In the silent midnight watches 
In Thy glorious Resurrection 
In Thy service will I ever . 
It came upon the midnight clear 
It is not death to die . . 



Page 

336 



Jerusalem the golden . 
Jesu, lover of my soul . . 
Jesu, my Lord, my God, my All 
Jesu, name all names above . 
Jesu, the very thought of Thee 
Jesu, to Thy table led . . 
Jesus Christ is risen to-day . 



133 

398 
356 
690 
3^7 
147 
SSI 
426 
422 

443 
604 
678 
476 

534 
212 

555 
487 

540 
612 
277 
515 
429 
502 
241 

93 
595 
261 
199 
484 
43S 
296 
566 

90 
662 

647 
459 
627 
403 
405 
597 
253 





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GENERAL ALPHABETICAL LIST OF HYMNS. 


705 








Page 




Page 






Jesus ! gentle Suflferer, say . . 


. 217 


Lo ! God to heaven ascendeth . . 


315 






Jesus' holy Cross and dying . . 


. 16s 


Lo ! He comes ! Let all adore Him 


27 






Jesus, how much Thy name unfold 


s . 431 


Lo ! He comes with clouds descendin 


g 38s 






Jesus, how sweet Thy memory is 


• 409 


Lo, the Day ! — the Day of Life . 


380 






Jesus, I live to Thee .... 


• 577 


Lo, the feast is spread to-day . . 


600 






Jesus, I love Thee, — not because 


. 606 


Lo, the storms of life are breaking 


478 






Jesus, I love Thee evermore . 


. 608 


Long did I toil 


507 






Jesus, I love Thy charming name 


. 617 


Lord, how shall I be meeting . . 


20 






Jesus, I my cross have taken . 


• 143 


Lord, it belongs not to my care . . 


651 






Jesus, immutably the same . . 


• 559 


Lord Jesus Christ, in Thee alone . 


454 






Jesus is God ! the solid earth . 


• 358 


Lord, let my heart still turn to Thee 


573 






Jesus, lead us \vith Thy power . 


. 561 


Lord, Thou art mine, and I am Thinf 


- 554 






Jesus lives, and so shall I . . 


• 275 


Love divine, all loves excelling . . 


421 






Jesus, Lord of life eternal . . 


• 307 


" Lovest thou Me ? " 


626 






Jesus, my Lord ! my life, my all 
Jesus, my Lord, Thy nearness . 
Jesus, my Lord, 'tis sweet to rest 
Jesus, my Redeemer, lives . . 
Jesus' name shall ever be . . 
Jesus, pro me perforatus . . . 
Jesus shall reign where'er the sun 
Jesus, still lead on 


. 501 ■ 

• 496 

• 519 
. 26s 

• 437 
. 462 

• 345 

• 139 


Mary ! put thy grief away . . . 
Messiah, at Thy glad approach . . 
More than all, one thing my heart . 
Morning breaks upon the tomb . . 
My dear Redeemer and my Lord . 
My faith looks up to Thee . . . 
My home in heaven 


256 
25 
625 
280 
138 
536 
633 


• 




Jesus, the rays divine .... 
Jesus, these eyes have never seen 
Jesus, Thou Joy of loving hearts 


• 526 

. 628 

603 


My Jesus, if the seraphim . . . 
My Saviour ! I am Thine . . 
My Saviour, 'mid life's varied scene 


342 

• 558 

482 






Jesus, Thy Blood and Righteousn 


ess 191 


My sins, my sins, my Saviour . 


215 






Jesus, Thy boundless love to me 
Jesus, Thy Church, with longing e 
Joy and gladness ! joy and gladnes 
Joy to the world, the Lord is come 


611 

yes 391 

s 88 

65 


No more, ah, no more 

No, no, it is not dying 

Not all the blood of beasts . . . 
Now I have found a friend . . . 


. 638 
. 661 
. 188 
• 511 






Just as I am, — without one plea 
Just as thou art, — without one tra 


• • 473 
ce. 474 


Now I have found the ground wherei 
Now let our cheerful eyes sur\^ey . 


n 457 
• 349 






King of kings, and wilt Thou dei 


jn 360 


Now let us join 

Now thy gentle Lamb, Sion . . 


. 687 
• 251 






Lamb, the once crucified . . . 


• • 330 


ABIDE, abide in Jesus .... 


• 623 






Late, late, so late ! 


• • 394 


blessed Lord 


• 578 






Let me be with Thee where Thou 


art 654 


blessed Sun, whose splendor . . 


. 508 






Let not your heart be faint . . 


• • 517 


Bread of Life from heaven . . 


. 589 






Let the earth now praise the Lord 


. 18 


Christ, our true and only light . 


. 116 






Let Zion's sons and daughters say 


• • 254 


Christ, the Lord of heaven, to The 


e 361 






Lift up your heads, ye mighty gate 


.s . 17 


Christ, who hast prepared a place 


• 3" 






Life's mystery — deep, restless . 


• • 544 


for a closer walk with God . • 


• 498 






Listen to the wondrous story . 


• • 444 


for a thousand tongues to sing . 


. 682 






Lo ! God, our God, has come . 


. . 92 


Friend of souls I how blest the tim 


e 491 




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706 GENERAL ALPHABETICAL LIST OF HYMNS. 










Page 




Page 






God, unseen, yet ever near . 


. • 596 


Rejoice ! the Lord is King . . 


• 348 






liani'iv Vinii^f^ . . . 




• • 568 


Rejoice, all ye believers . . . 
Resting from His work to-day . 
Rest of the weary, Joy of the sad 


. 383 






\J llCL^yy IIULIOC 










Heaven ! Sweet Heaven ! 




. . 668 


. 230 
. 518 






holy Saviour, Friend unseen 




• • 539 


Rest of the weary ! Thou . . 


. 228 






Jesu, who art gone before . 




. . 312 


Rest, weary Son of God . . . 


• 231 






Jesu ! King most wonderful 




. . 407 


Rest, weary soul ! 


• 514 






Jesu ! Thou the beauty art 




. . 408 


Ride on, ride on in majesty . . 


. 206 






Jesus ! sweet the tears I shed 


• • 219 


Rock of ages, cleft for me . . . 


. 461 






Jesus ! when I think of Thee 


• • 293 










Lamb of God, who, bleeding 


. . ^8:5 










Lord ! I love Thee from my heart . 609 


Saviour ! when, in dust, to Thee 


. 467 






Love divine, how sweet Thou art . 61 ■; 


See a poor sinner, dearest Lord . 


• 532 






Love, who formedst me to wear 


• 414 


See, the Conqueror mounts in triun 


tiph 334 






Paradise ! Paradise ! . . 


• 659 


See the ransomed millions stand 


• 357 






risen Lord ! conquering King 
sacred Head ! now wounded . 


! . 267 
. 178 


Shepherd of tender youth . . 
Since Christ is gone to heaven . . 


• 675 

• 314 






sacred Head, surrounded . . 


. 182 


Since o'er Thy footstool here below 


r . 656 






sweet home-echo ! . . . . 


• 663 


Sing aloud, children 


• 299 






Thou Redeemer of our race • 


9 


Sing, and the mystery declare . . 


• 587 






Thou ! who by a star didst guid 


i . 125 


Sing, my tongue, the mystery tellin 


g • 584 






wondrous mother ! . . . . 


. 108 


Sing, my tongue, the Saviour's bat 
Sing, Heavens ! Earth, rejoic 


le 15s 
^!. 337 






world ! behold upon the tree . 


• 174 






O'erwhelmed in depths of woe . 


. 167 


Sleep, Holy Babe 


. t02 






Of the Father's love begotten . 


43 


Soft cloud, that, while the breeze . 


. 328 






Oh, endless theme 


• 699 


Sons of men, behold from far . . 


. 121 






Oh for a heart to praise my God 


. 140 


Souls of men, why will ye scatter . 


• 440 






Oh for the peace which floweth 


. 670 


Star of morn and even . . . . 


. 667 






Oh for the robes of whiteness . 


. 669 


Still on Thy loving heart let me rep 


ose 432 






Oh how could I forget Him . . 


. 622 


Still, still with Thee 


• 575 • 






Oh, how wondrous is the story . 


. 69 


Still thy sorrow, Magdalena . . . 


• 257 






Oh ! long and darksome was the n 


ght I 


Strong Son of God 


• 547 






Oh, Paradise must fairer be . . 


• 657 


SufTering Saviour, Lamb of God 


• 592 






On earth awhile, 'mid sufferings tr 


ed 308 


Sun of my soul. Thou Saviour dear 


. 562 






On Jordan's bank, the Baptist's cr 


y . 12 


Sun, shine forth in all thy splendor 


• 283 






On Thee, Jesus ! strongly leanir 


g • 571 


Surely Christ thy griefs has borne . 


' • 194 






OncG Hg C3.rnc in blcssincr • • • 


• 15 


Sweet the moments, rich in blessin. 


I - 193 






One there is, above all others . 


. 428 


Sweet was the hour, Lord ! to Tl 


lee 522 






One thing's needful : then. Lord Je 


sus 416 










Oppressed with noon-day's scorchii 


Ig . 210 


That Day of wrath ! 


• 379 






Our Lord is risen from the dead . 


• 32s 


That great Day of wrath and terror 


. 368 






Our lot is fallen in pleasant places 


• 434 


That Holy One 

That mystic word of Thine . . . 


. 629 

• 574 






Plunged in a gulf of dark despair 


. . 24 


The atoning work is done .... 


• 354 




c 




Praise to Jesus ! Praise to God . 


• 694 


The chariot ! the chariot ! . . . 


• 392 




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GENERAL ALPHABETICAL LIST OF HYMNS. 


707 








Page 




Page 






The Church has waited long - . 


35 


To-day above the sky He soared . . 


309 






The Church of God lifts up her voice 


240 


To-day in Bethlehem hear I . . 


47 






The Day is near 


365 


To-day our Lord went up on high . . 


313 






The foe behind, the deep before . 


286 


To Him, who for our sins was slain . 


692 






The God whom earth and sea and sk> 


99 


To Him who loved the souls . . 


673 






The happy Christmas comes . . 


82 


Tossed with rough winds 


4S0 






The Head that once was crowned . 


353 


Trembling before Thine awful throne 


504 






The Life above, the Life on high . 


649 


Trustingly, trustingly, Jesus, to Thee 


151 






The Lord of all things 


613 


'Tis come, the time so oft foretold . 


81 






The Lord of life is risen .... 


28S 


'Tis the Day of Resurrection . . 


242 






The Lord will come 


390 


'Twas on that dark, that doleful night 


594 






The morning purples all the sky . 


246 










The Royal Banners for\vard go . . 


159 


Wake, awake, for night is flying . 


382 






The Saviour ! O, what endless charm 


3 424 


Watchman ! tell us of the night 


28 






The sepulchre is holding .... 


227 


We come not with a costly store . 


129 






The Supper of the Lamb to share . 


237 


We keep the festival 


23S 






The Throne of His Glory ! . . . 


393 


We shall see Him in our nature 


672 






The tomb is empty 


290 


We sing the praise of Him who died 


200 






The way is long and dreary . . . 


483 


We sing to Thee, Immanuel . . 


56 






The wise men to Thy cradle-throne 


128 


We speak of the realms of the blessec 


655 






The wondering sages trace from far 


120 


We were not with the faithful few . 


543 






The world can neither give nor take 


494 


Welcome, Thou Victor in the strife 


270 






Thee we adore, eternal Lord . . 


677 


What laws, my blessed Saviour . . 


171 






There comes a galley laden . . . 


52 


What star is this, with beams so brigh 


t 114 






There is a blessed home .... 


665 


What sudden blaze of song . . . 


78 






There is a fountain filled with blood 


196 


When across the heart 


521 






There is an everlasting home • . 


479 


When gathering clouds around I view 


; 469 






There is no love like the love of Jesu 


3 439 


When I sur\'ey the wondrous cross 


. 1S7 






There was no angel 'midst the throng 


446 


When in the hour of lonely woe . 


565 






They gave to Thee mjTrh . . . 


117 


When Jesus came to earth of old . 


30 






Thine Handmaid, Saviour ! can it be 


14S 


When Jordan hushed his waters still 


• 73 






This holy mom, so fair and bright . 


245 


When our heads are bowed with woe 


470 






This is the month 


62 


When sins and fears prevailing rise 


531 






Thou art the Way ; to Thee alone 


• 145 


When this passing world is done . 


. 619 






Thou fairest Child Divine . . . 


• 63 


When through the torn sail . . . 


46s 






Thou hidden Source of calm repose 


• 493 


When time seems short .... 


• 546 






Thou Holiest Love, whom most I lov 


e 185 


When winds are raging .... 


• 523 






Thou King anointed, at whose word 


. 696 


When, within His mother's arms . 


. 100 






Thou Lord of all, on earth hast dwelt 


149 


When, wounded sore, the stricken soi 


il 222 






Thou shalt rise ! my dust .... 


. 652 


Wherefore weep we over Jesus . • 


. 204 






Thou stand'st between the earth . 


. 103 


Where high the heavenly temple . 


• 350 






Thou that art the Father's word . 


693 


While Faith is with me, I am blest 


• 542 






Thou who didst hang upon a barren tre 


e 218 


While to Bethlehem we are going . 


. 61 






Thou whom we seek in darkness . 


. 691 


Why should I fear the darkest hour 


• 499 




c 




Through the love of God our Saviour 


• 513 


Why should these eyes be tearful . 


. 300 




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708 GENERAL ALPHABETICAL LIST OF HYMNS. 



Page 
With tearful ej'es I look around . . 472 
With terror thou dost strike me now . 640 
Wonder of wonders ! on the cross . . 220 
Would'st thou leani the depth of sin . 214 



Page 

Yes : I will always love 614 

Yes ! our Shepherd leads 505 

ZiON, at thy shining gates .... ^i 




t;i^ 







ft 



LATIN HYMNS. 



Page 
A soLis ortfis cardine ad usque . . 45 
A soils ortus cardine et usque ... 4a 

Ad ccenatn Agni providi 237 

Ad regias Agni dapes 238 

Adeste fideles 49 

Alleluia, Alleluia ! .248 

■ Apparebit repentina 368 

Arte mira, miro consilio 429 

Aurora coelum purpurat .... 245, 246 

CcELOS ascendit hodie 309 

Corde natus ex Parentis .... 43 

Cor meum Tibi dedo 604 

Dies ilia, dies vit«e 380 

Dies irae, dies ilia 372 

FcENO jacere pertulit 92 

Grates nunc omnes reddamus ... 53 
Gravi me terrore pulsas 640 

Hic breve vivitur ....... 643 

Hora novissima 642 

Hymnum canamus gloriae .... 305 

In terris adhuc positam 30S 

Jam moesta qu'esce querela . . . 635, 638 

Jesu, decus angelicum 40S 

Jesu dulcis memoria 405 

Jesu, plena caritate 212 

Jesu, Rex admirabilis 407 

Jesus, dulcedo cordium .... 401, 603 
Jesus, pro me perforatus 462 



Jordanis oras pr^-via . . 
Judex mundi quum sedebit 

Lauda, Sion, Salvatorem 



MiTis Agnus, Leo fortis 
Nobis Olympo redditus 



O BONA patria . . . 

O Christe, qui noster poll 

O Deus, ego amo Te, Nam prior 

O Deus, ego amo Te, Nee amo 

O Domine Deus 

O esca viatorum 

O filii et filiae 

O Jesu, mi dulcissime .... 
O nox vel medio splendldior die 
O sola magnarum urbium . . 



Pange, lingua, gloriosi corporis 580 
Pange, lingua, gloriosi proelium 
Parvum quando cerno Deum 
Pone luctum, Magdalena . . 
Puer natus in Bethlehem . . 



QuM Stella sole pulchtior 
Quem terra, pontus, sidera 
Qui penetravit inferas . . 



Recordare sanctae crucis . 
Rex Christe, Factor omnium 



Smvo dolorum turbine 
Salve, Caput cruentatum 



Page 

12 

363 

673 



645 
312 
608 
606 
449 
589 
=54 
109 
43 
"3 

5S4< 5S7 



256. 



100 
257 

S3 
114 

99 
303 

165 
696 

167 
162 



c: 



710 GREEK HYMNS. GERMAN HYMNS. 



Page 

Salve, Dies dierum gloria 249 

Salve, festa dies 235 

Salvete, flores martyrum 107 

Stabat Mater Dolorosa 169 

Stabat Mater Speciosa ..... 97 

Stupenda lex mysterii 233 

Summi regis cor, aveto 410 

Surrexit Christus hodie 253 



Tandem fluctus, tandem luctus 
Tecum volo vulnerari . . 
Te Deum laudamus . . 

Urbs Syon aurea . . . 

Veni, Redemptor gentium 
Veni, veni, Emmanuel 
Vexilla Regis prodeunt . 



Page 
7 

211 
677 
647 



GREEK HYMNS. 



Page 

'AvaoTuaeu^ r/fcepa 242 

'kocjij.ev TtavTEQ TiaoL 243 

Ao^a ev vipioTotg Qsu) 47 

E/ Koi EV Ta(j)U) 241 

'EirapaTe Kvlag 306 

'E(peaTr]Kev rj rjfiepa 366 

Zocpepag TpcKVfxtag 451 



Page 

'Irjaov yTajKvrare 403 

'l-qoovg b ZuoSottj^ 307 

KOTTOV TE KOi KllfiaTOV .... 452 

Miya koi Tvapado^ov -d-avfia ■ ■ . 39 

MoVVr] ftOC TTarpi] TCEpikEi'KETO ■ • 633 

'O KvpLOQ spxETai. 365 

'Erouiov TTcO/lwv udaCov 675 



GERMAN HYMNS. 



Page 

AcH mein Herr Jesu, Dein Nahesein 496 

Allein auf Christi Himmelfahrt . . . 314 

AUein zu Dir, Herr Jesu Christ . . 454 

Auf diesen Tag bedenken wir . . . 313 

Auferstehn, ja auferstehn 652 

Aus irdischem GetUmmel .... 533 

Bei Dir, Jesu, will ich bleiben . . . 566 

Bleibt bei Dem, der euretwillen . . 623 

Erich durch, mein angefocht'nes Herz 455 



Christ lag in Todesbanden . 
Christe, Du Beistand Deiner 



261 
341 



Page 

Christi Blut und Gerechtigkeit . . . 191 
Christus ist erstanden 259 



Das Paradies muss schoner sein . 
Dein Kbnig kommt in niedern HUlle 
Der am Kreuz ist meine Liebe . . 
Der Du in der Nacht des Todes . 
Der Herr ist auferstanden . . . 

Du, den wir suchen 

Du schbnstes Gottes-Kind . . . 

EiN lieblich Loos ist uns gefallen . 
EInes wunsch ich mir 



657 
33 



691 
63 

434 
625 





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GERMAN 


HYMNS. 


711 








Page 




Page 






Eins ist noth : ach Herr, diess Eine 


. 416 


Macht hoch die Thur' .... 


• ^7 






Er ist in Bethlehem geboren . . 


• 93 


Mein Jesu, dem die Seraphinen . 


• 342 






Ermuntert euch, ihr Frommen . • 


• 383 










Es kommt ein Schiff geladen . . 


• 52 


auferstand'ner Siegesfiirst . 
Du Liebe meiner Liebe . . . 


. 267 
. 185 






Fkohlich soil mein Herze springen 


58 


Haupt voU Blut und Wunden . i 


78, 182 






Frlih morgans, da die Sonn' aufgeht 


263 


Jesu Christ, mein schonstes Licht 
Jesu Christe, wahres Licht . . 


. 611 
. it6 






,GoTT fahret auf gen Himmel . . 


315 


Jesu, meine Sonne 


. 508 






Gott sei Dank durch alle Welt . . 


18 


Lamm Gottes unschuldig . . . 
selig Haus, wo manDich . . . 


. 583 
. 568 






Heiligster Jesu, Heil'gungsquelle 


133 


Welt, sieh hier dein Leben . . 


• 174 






Herzlich lieb hab ich Dich, o Herr 


609 










Herzliebster Jesu, was hast Du . 


171 


ScHMiJCKE dich, liebe Seele . . 


• 590 






Himmelan geht unsre Bahn . . . 


319 


Schbnster Herr Jesu 

Siegesfdrst und Ehrenkonig . . . 


• 413 
■ 321 






Ich glaube, Hallelujah .... 


537 


So ruhest Du, meine Ruh' . . 


. 228 






Ich habe nun den Grund gefunden 


457 


Still an Deinem liebevollen Herzen 


• 432 






Ich lass Dich nicht 


555 










Ich sag es jedem, dass Er lebt . . 


277 


VoM Himmel hoch da komm ich her 


• 54 






Ich weiss, an wen ich glaube . . 


534 










Im Abend blinkt der Morgenstem 


120 


Wachet auf! ruft uns die Stimme 


. 382 , 






Immer muss ich wieder lesen . . 


141 


Wandle leuchtender und schdner . 
Weint nicht iiber Jesu Schmerzen 


. 283 
. 204 






Ja fiinN'ahr ! uns fdhrt .... 


505 


Wenn ich Ihn nur habe .... 


. 502 






Jesu, geh voran 


139 


Werde Licht, du Volk der Heiden 


. 118 






Jesu, meines Lebens Leben . . . 


183 


Wie kbnnt ich Sein vergessen . . 


. 622 






Jesus lebt, mit Ihm auch ich . . 


275 


Wie schbn leuchtet der Morgenstem 


• 551 






Jesus, meine Zuversicht .... 


26s 


Wie soil ich Dich empfangen . . 


20 










Wiewohl ist mir, Freund der Seelen 491 






Keine Schoaheit hat die Welt . . 


136 


Willkomm, verklarter Gottessohn . 
Willkommen, Held im Streite . . 


. 272 
. 270 






' Lamm, das gelitten, und Lowe . . 


330 


Wir singen Dir, Immanuel . . . 


• 56 






Liebe, die Du mich zum Bilde . . 


414 


Wir werden bei dem Herm sein . 


663 






Hymns from the Syriac, p. hi 


; from t 


he Spanish, pp. 65, 649 ; from the French 






pp. 657, 659, 678; from the Dutch, p 


.. i33;f 


rom the Danish, p. 82. 








Cambridge : I 


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John Wilson and Son. 






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